Tārīḫ-i Rashīdī - The History of the Moghuls, Tārīkh-i-Rashīdī

Page 9, line 7 of note. For “Kasan” read “Kusán.”
Page 15, note 1. Add, as a reference, “See p. 23 below.”
Page 36, note 1. Add, as a reference, “And note 3, p. 237 below.”
Page 44, note 2, line 12. For “Marv-i-Sháh Jahán” read “Marv-i-Sháhi Ján.”
Page 44, note 2, line 16. Add after the word “Jahán,” “According to most
writers, Marv-al-Rud was the name of the present town of Maruchák—or
Little Marv.” As a reference add, “See also Price, ii. p. 519, for situation
of Talkán.”
Page 67, note 2, line 5. After the word “Ashikin” add, “Khanikoff gives the
date of his death as 791 H. (See Mém. sur la partie Mérid. de l'Asie Centrale,
p. 76 of English transl.).”

Page 93, line 5 from foot. At name of “Sultan Ahmad Mirza” add footnote 2,
“See Baber, p. 237, &c. and Erskine's Hist., I., as in Index. Also p. 156
below.”
Page 95, line 11. After the word “Kudus” add note 1, “This may possibly be
read, ‘Sar i Khargah rafta Abdul Kudus,’ and in other ways.”
Page 121, note. Omit semi-colon after the words “Tarikh-i-Rashidi.”
Page 131, line 13. Add note at word “[viláyat],” “Perhaps ‘went away to his
home’ would be a better translation.”
Page 133, line 2 from foot. For “encourged” read “encouraged.”
Page 134, line 18. For “or Khitai” read “of Khitai.”
Page 162, line 15 from foot. For “Zádagán” read “Rádkán,” and add note,
“A small town of Khorasán, some fifty-two miles W.N.W. of Meshed. The
ulang, or grazing-ground of Rádkán, is a flat expanse of waste grassy land
lying to the southward of the present town, and near the celebrated ‘mil,’ or
tower, of Rádkán. It always has been, and is still, a favourite place for
turning horses out to grass. In the neighbourhood of the modern town there
are ruins and mounds which show that the site of Rádkán has been shifted
more than once in comparatively modern times—probably since the days of
the Saljuki sultans.”
Page 213, note 3. Add, “corresponding to 1508 A.D.”
Page 216, note 1. Add, as a reference, “See Baber, p. 243.”
Page 221, note 1. For “‘highland, district’” read “‘highland,’ district.”
Page 294, line 24. For “he” read “be.”
Page 401, line 8. For “Faghravi” perhaps “Faghnavi” should be read.
Page 405, line 1 of notes. Instead of, “it is a proper name, and not an adjec-
tive,” read “it is not an adjective, but an Arabic noun, meaning ‘chief,’
‘commander,’ &c. but is often used as a proper name.”
Page 464, note 1, line 4. For “of” read “off.”
Page 477. Add, at end of chapter, note 1, “An account of the battle from the
Afghan point of view will be found in Elliot, IV. pp. 380-82, translated
from the Tarikh-i-Shir-Sháhi. In its main features it differs very little from
that of Mirza Haidar.”
Page 480, note, line 9 from foot. Insert a comma after word “territory.”

For “Ahmad Mirza, Sultan” read “Ahmad Khan (Alásha Khan), son of
Yunus”; and omit, “son of Husain Mirzá 80 ^*n.” Add pages “108,
109-11.”
For “Ahmad Khan,” son of Yunus Khan, 108, 109-11” read “Ahmad Sultan,
son of Huláku, 80^* n.”
‘Ghar Bálik, see Kara Khitai.” Omit this entry.
Bower. For “124^*” read “124.”
Ganhar Shah. For “Ganhar” read “Gauhar.”
Haft Deh. For “Yatikánd” read “Yatikand.”
Hazrat Ishán. Add “p. 372.”
Hazrat Shaháb-ud-Din, &c. Add “(a name for Nura, Khwája, which see).”
Between “Kelát” and “Kerranái” insert “Kenjanfu, 404 n.”
“Khwája Kalán,” pp. 18^* and 19^*, is separate from “Khwája Kalán” at p. 94.
Khákán. For “30 n.” read “30^* n.”
Kila Zafar. Add “p. 220 n.”
Between “Martand” and “Marx” insert “Marv-al-Rud,” 44 n.

For “Orpelion” read “Orpelian”; for “and” read “on.”
“Sháháb-ud-Din,” at p. 8^*, is a separate person from “Sháháb-ud-Din,” at p. 57.
Sháh Muhammad, Sultan. Add “p. 381.”
Between “Sultan Ahmad” and “Sultan Ahmad Tambal” insert “Sultan
Ahmad Mirza, son of Abu Said Sultan,” p. 93.
Between “Talás River” and “Táliku” insert “Tálikán, 44 n.”
“Timur” at p. 77 and 78 is a separate person from “Amir Timur.”
“Timur Sultan,” at p. 451, is a separate person from “Timur Sultan, son of
Sháhi Beg.” Also omit words “and killed.”
“Timán” should be placed higher up.
“Ulang-zádagán” should read “Ulang Rádkán.” See Erratum for p. 162.
Yasu. After “33^*” should come a full-stop, then a separate entry as follows:—
“Yatikand 180 and note 180-81; given to Yunus Khan 87 and 130.”

IT is fitting that the opening of a royal history, and the beginning of a book of victory and good fortune, should be the praise and glory of that Monarch, the length and breadth of whose kingdom, (according to the words: “Say—verily God is the holder of the Empire,”) is defended and preserved from change and decay, and whose palace is securely guarded from the evil of destruction and ruin.

“He setteth upon the throne whomsoever He will,” is a testimony to His glorious unity; “He deposes whomsoever He will,” is a proof of the permanence of His kingdom.

The splendour of His greatness is beyond the reach of the contentions of friends or adversaries, and the glory of His omnipotence is exempt from the pretentious claims of passionate and dissentient men.

The kings of the earth place the forehead of helplessness and impotence upon the dust of submission and humility, at the palace of His glory; and the Khákáns, powerful as the heavens, standing upon the threshold of the portal of His divinity, stretch forth the hand of humility, supplication and devotion.

“Amma bád.” Let it not be concealed from the minds of the wise that the Korán, which is the greatest of the miracles of Muhammad, is divided into three sections. The first contains the declaration of the Unity of God; the second the statutes of the Holy Law of Muhammad, and the third historical matter, such as the lives of the Prophets. Thus, we see, one-third of this book (none but the clean shall touch it) is intended to teach the history of past generations; and therein lies the clearest proof of the excellence of the science of history. Moreover, all are agreed concerning the utility of this science; and most nations, nay, all the peoples of the world, have studied it, and have collected and handed down traditions of their forefathers, of which they give ample proofs and upon which they rely.

For instance, the Turks, in their literary compositions and in their transaction of business, as well as in their ordinary intercourse, employ a speech based upon the traditions and chronicles of their ancestors.

Consequently I, the least of God's servants, Muhammad Haidar, son of Muhammad Husain Kurkán—known familiarly as Mirza Haidar—notwithstanding my ignorance and want of skill, felt it my duty to undertake this difficult task. For much time has already passed since the Khákáns of the Moghuls were driven from the towns of the civilised world, and have had to content themselves with dwellings in the desert. On this account they have written no history of themselves, but base their ancestral records upon oral tradition.

At this present date—951 [1544 A.D.]—there remains not one among them who knows these traditions, and my boldness in attempting this difficult work is due to the consideration that, did I not make the venture, the story of the Moghul Khákáns would be obliterated from the pages of the world's history. The more I considered the matter, the more conscious I became of my inability to write an elegant and ornate preface. [Verses.] … For this reason, and in order to give my book an auspicious opening, I transcribed the Prolegomena to the Zafar-Náma of Sharaf-ud-Din Ali Yazdi, as far as the “Amma bád.” This Zafar-Náma contains a history of the Moghuls and their Khákáns, from Chingiz Khán to Tughluk Timur Khán, but of the successors of this latter no mention is made, except where the context required it.

I began my history with the reign of Tughluk Timur Khán for three reasons. (1.) That which had happened before the time of Tughluk Timur Khán had been already recorded, but no account had been written of events which took place after his time, and which, not being contained in any history, ought to be written. But to write of the times preceding Tughluk Timur Khán, when we have already that other excellent history, the Zafar-Náma, would be like digging a well on the margin of the Euphrates. (2.) None of his successors have attained to so great a degree of pre-eminence, or acquired so extensive a dominion, as Tughluk Timur Khán. (3.) He was one of the Moghul Khákáns who were converted to Islám, and during his reign the Moghuls, having withdrawn their necks from the yoke of Unbelief, entered into that state of freedom in Islám enjoyed by all Musulmáns. For these reasons, this history is dedicated to his illustrious name and his most noble memory.

And for three chief reasons, out of many, I have called this book the Tárikh-i-Rashidi!

1. It was Mauláná Arshad-ud-Din who converted Tughluk Timur to Islám, as will be recounted hereafter.

2. Although before the time of Tughluk Timur, Barák Khán, and after Barák Khán, Kabak Khán, had become Musulmáns, neither these Khákáns nor the Moghul people had had a knowledge of the Rushd, or “True Road to Salvation,” but their natures had remained base, and they had continued in the road that leads to Hell. But a full knowledge of the Rushd fell to the lot of the enlightened Tughluk Timur and his happy people. And inasmuch as the beginning of this history will deal with this matter, the suitability of the title Rashidi is evident.

3. Since at the present date, Abdur Rashid, the last of the Moghul Khákáns, is reigning, and since this book has been dedicated to, and written for, him, the reason for the title, Tárikh-i-Rashidi is [still more] apparent.

It is divided into two Parts [Daftar].

Part I.—From the beginning of the reign of Tughluk Timur Khán to the time of Abdur Rashid, who is still reigning.

Part II.—Concerning myself and what I have seen and known of the Sultáns and Khákáns of the Uzbeg, the Chaghatái and others; and, in fact, everything that happened during my lifetime.

I thank God that He has, in His graciousness, made me absolutely independent of the Moghuls. For though the Khákáns of that tribe are of my own race, nay, are my own cousins, I received very bad treatment at their hands—a matter of which I shall speak in the Second Part.

[Verses.] …

The ancestors of my mother and of my father's mother have, for several generations back, been related, on the paternal side, to the Khákáns. At the age of sixteen,^3a having just been left an orphan, I went to the court of Sultan Said Khán, who by his fatherly kindness, greatly alleviated my grief; he showed me so much attention and favour, that I became an object of envy to his brothers and sons. I passed twenty-four years at his court, living a life of luxury and splendour, and acquiring, under his instruction and guidance, many accomplishments and much learning. In the arts of calligraphy, reading, making verses, epistolary style [inshá] painting and illuminating I became not only distinguished, but a past-master. Likewise in such crafts as seal-engraving, jeweller's and goldsmith's work, saddlery and armour making; also in the construction of arrows, spear-heads and knives, gilding and many other things which it would take too long to enumerate: in all of these, the masters of each could teach me no more. And this was the outcome of the care and attention of the Khán. Then again in the affairs of the State, in important transactions, in planning campaigns and forays [Kazáki], in archery, in hunting, in the training of falcons and in everything that is useful in the government of a kingdom, the Khán was my instructor and patron. Indeed, in most of the above-mentioned pursuits and studies he was my only instructor.

Although I have received from his sons the worst possible treatment, I will return them good for evil; and whether the Khán's son accept this small work or reject it, I will, all the same, dedicate it to him, in order that he may have a remembrance of me and that the world may have a remembrance of him. And the title of this book is derived from his illustrious name, which is: Khákán bin ulkhákán ussultán bin ussultán almutawakkil ala Ulláh al Malik Almumin abul muzaffar Abd-ur-Rashid Khán bin Sultán almabrur, wa Khákán almaghfur assaid ash-shahid abul Fath Sultán Said Khán. [Verses.] …

Here are omitted one or two Muhammadan legends such as are usually found in Musulman histories, and a quotation from the Kashf-ul-Hujub. They have no bearing on the author's history.

ONE day when Tughluk Timur Khán was feeding his dogs with swine's flesh, Shaikh Jamál-ud-Din was brought into his presence. The Khán said to the Shaikh: “Are you better than this dog or is the dog better than you?” The Shaikh replied: “If I have faith I am the better of the two, but if I have no faith this dog is better than I am.” The Khán was much impressed by these words, and a great love for Islám took possession of his heart.

Tughluk Timur Khán was the son of Isán Bughá Khán, son of Davá, son of Barák Khán, son of Kará Isun, son of Mutukan, son of Chaghatái Khán, son of Chingiz Khán, son of Yusukái, son of Birtán, son of Kabal, son of Tumana, son of Báisanghar, son of Kaidu, son of Dutumanin, son of Buká, son of Burunjar Khán, son of Alánkuá Kurkluk (which means an immaculate woman). Of her the Prolegomena of the Zafar-Náma tells the following story: One day a brilliant light shone into her mouth, and thereupon she felt within her a kind of pregnancy—just in the way that Miriam, the daughter of Omrán, became pregnant by means of the breath of Gabriel. And neither of these things is beyond the power of God. [Verses.] …

The object of this book is not to tell such tales as these, but simply to point out that Burunjar Khán was born of his mother, without a father. All histories trace the genealogy of his mother, Alánkuá Kurkluk, back to Japhet son of Noah (upon them be peace), and detailed accounts of all her ancestors are given in these histories. But I have not accorded them a place in this one, for it would take too long; moreover, I have, in this work, limited my subject to events that took place after the conversion to Islám of the Moghuls, and have said nothing of their history previous to that time.

I HAVE heard from trustworthy Moghul sources (and my father and my uncle used also to relate) that Isán Bughá Khán,^6a the father of Tughluk Timur Khán, had for his favourite wife a certain Sátilmish Khátun; while he had also another wife whose name was Manlik. Now the Khán had no children, and Sátilmish Khátun was barren. The Khán, on a certain occasion, went on an expedition with his army. According to an old Moghul custom, the favourite wife has the allotment and disposal of a man's wives, keeping back or giving him whichever of them she pleases. Sátilmish Khátun learnt that Manlik was with child by the Khán, and, being envious, gave her in marriage to Dukhtui Sharáwal, who was one of the great Amirs. When the Khán returned from his expedition he asked after Manlik. Sátilmish Khátun replied: “I have given her away to some one.” The Khán then said: “But she was with child by me,” and he was very wroth; but as this was a usual practice among the Moghuls, he said nothing.

Soon after this, Isán Bughá Khán died, and there was no Khán left of the tribe of Moghul. Every man acted for himself, and ruin and disorder began to creep in among the people. Amir Buláji Dughlát,^6b an ancestor of the humble narrator, determined on discovering a Khán, and restoring order to the State; so he sent a certain Tásh Timur to find Dukhtui Sharáwal, and to obtain what information he could, concerning Manlik and her child; telling Tásh Timur that if it were a boy, he was to steal the child away and bring it back with him. Tásh Timur replied: “It is a very long and tedious expedition, and fitting preparations for the journey must be made. I beg of you to supply me with six hundred goats, that we may first drink their milk and then kill and eat them, one by one.”

Amir Buláji complied with his wishes and supplied him with all that was necessary. Tásh Timur then set out. He journeyed for a long while in Moghulistan, and by the time he came upon the party of Dukhtui Sharáwal, there was but one goat remaining, and that was a brown one [kabud]. On his inquiring after Manlik^7a and her child, they replied that she had borne a son, and that she had a second son by Dukhtui Sharáwal:^7b the name of the Khán's son was Tughluk Timur, and the name of the son of Sharáwal was Inchumalik.^7c Finally Tásh Timur succeeded in carrying off Tughluk Timur, and returned to the Amir with him.

Buláji belonged to Aksu. When Chaghatái Khán apportioned his kingdom, he gave Mangalái Suyah to Urtubu, who was the grandfather of Amir Buláji. Mangalái Suyah is the equivalent of Aftáb Ru, or “sun-faced.” It is bounded on the east by Kusan and Tárbugur; on the west by Sám, Gaz and Jakishmán, which are situated on the confines of Farghána; on the north by Issigh Kul, and on the south by Jorján and Sárigh-Uighur. This territory is called Mangalái Suyah, and it was subject to Amir Buláji. In his time it contained many large towns, the most important of which were Káshghar, Khotan, Yárkand, Kásán, Akhsiket, Andiján, Aksu, At-Bashi and Kusan.^7d and Hiuen Tsang tells us: “From the town of the Su-Yeh river as far [west] as the Ki Shwang Na country, the land is called Su-li, and the people are called by the same name” (Beal's Si Yu Ki). Ki Shwang Na is usually identified with Kesh, in Mávara-un-Nahr, and if that be correct it would mean that most of Western Turkistan and a great part of Mávara-un-Nahr went, in the seventh century, by the same name as the city (and perhaps district) of Kashghar, though the latter place stood altogether apart from the tract of country between the Chu and Kesh. Thus, whether it is in any way possible, that Hiuen Tsang's Su-Yeh, Su-Sa, or Su-li can be connected with Mirza Haidar's Suyah must remain extremely doubtful. If Mr. Watters' reading of Su-Sa instead of Su-Yeh is the right one, such a suggestion could not hold good. (See China Rev., as below.)

A curious passage, it may be noted here, occurs in the Geographical Dictionary of the Arab author Yakut, as translated by Thonnelier. He writes: “Farghanah … confinant avec le Turkestan du coté du district de Haïtal, lequel fait face au soleil levant, à droite du voyageur qui se rend au pays des Turks.” This passage would be too obscure, in any case, to throw light on the question at issue. It is remarkable only as an instance, in this particular region, of regarding a certain tract, or province, as “facing the sun.”

With regard to the limits given for Mangalai Suyah, the only boundary that the author defines by names that appear to be unknown at the present day, is the western one. Sám, Gaz (or the two may be read together as Sámgaz) and Jákishmán are indeed subject to some variants, but however read, I can find no place to answer to any of them on the western confines of Farghána, unless it be a small town, or village, marked on Ritter and Oetzel's map of 1841, as Sam Seirak, and placed on the Angren, tributary of the Syr, about midway between Khojand and Tashkend. The exact situation of these places is of little importance, as the author sufficiently indicates that all Farghána was included, when he mentions the names of Akhsiket and Kásán. The first of these two does not exist nowadays, but it is known to have stood near the site of the present Námangán, while Kásán is again somewhat farther westward, and consequently not far from the western confines of the province. Among the other limits, none leave any doubt except in detail. Kasan and Tárbugur on the east, are both well-known towns on the main road leading from Kashghar towards Karashahr and China, though called nowadays Kuchar and Bugur respectively. The position of Jorján is also readily recognised, under the modern spelling of Chárchán, or Chárchand; while the country of the Sárigh Uighur (or Yellow Uighur), though long forgotten, may be placed with moderate certainty to the eastward of Chárchán, or south and somewhat west of Lake Lob. Farther on in his history (pp. 348-9), Mirza Haidar alludes to this country again, as lying very much in this position. Dr. Bretschneider has some interesting notes on the subject of the Sárigh Uighur taken from Chinese sources, and places their country “somewhere north of Zaidam, on the southern verge of the stony desert.” They would in any case have dwelt on, or beyond, the south-eastern confines of Eastern Turkistan. (For Hiuen Tsang, see Beal's Si Yu Ki, i., p. 26; Thon-nelier, Dict. de Géogr. de l'Asie Cent., p. 29; Bretschneider, Mediæval Researches, i., p. 263; Mr. T. Watters in China Review, xix., No. 2, 1890, p. 117.)

From all these towns, Amir Buláji selected Aksu as a residence, and it was in Aksu that Tásh Timur found him. As he still had with him the one brown [kabud] goat, he received the surname [lakab] of Kuk Uchgu, which is now borne by all his descendants.

As they neared Aksu, they fell in with a party of merchants, and while they were crossing a pass, the Khán [Tughluk Timur] fell down a fissure in the ice. Tásh Timur, at this, raised a loud cry for help, but he could make no one hear him, for the caravan had crossed the pass and had arrived at a halting ground. Tásh Timur went to one of the merchants, whose name was Begjik, and told him what had befallen the Khán; the merchant communicated this to some of his companions, and several of them set out with Tásh Timur to the place where the Khán had disappeared. Begjik descended into the chasm and found the Khán uninjured, and then and there formed a friendly agreement with him. After that, by way of precaution, he said apologetically to the Khán: “If you go up first they will not pull me up at all; let me go first and they must perforce pull you up after.” Again, proffering many apologies, he called out to them to throw down the rope, which they did, and he went up first, and afterwards they pulled up the Khán. All then went on to Aksu. Amir Buláji raised Tughluk Timur to the rank of Khákán, and in course of time he ruled not only the whole of Moghulistán, but also much of the country of Chaghatái, as shall be related hereafter.

MAULÁNÁ KHWÁJA AHMAD (may God sanctify his soul) was descended from Mauláná Arshad-ud-Din. He was exceedingly pious and much esteemed and revered. He belonged to the sect of Khwájás (may God sanctify their spirits). For twenty years I was in his service, and worshipped at no other mosque than his. He led a retired life, devoting his time to religious contemplation, and he used to recite the traditions of his sect in a beautiful manner; so much so, that any stranger hearing him was sure to be much impressed.

From him I heard that it was written in the annals of his forefathers concerning Mauláná Shuja-ud-Din Mahmud, the brother of Háfiz-ud-Din, an elder of Bokhárá (who was the last of the Mujtahids, for after the death of Háfiz-ud-Din there was never another Mujtahid), that during his interregnum, Chingiz Khán assembled the Imáms of Bokhára, according to his custom, put Háfiz-ud-Din to death, and banished Mauláná Shuja'ud-Din Mahmud to Karákorum. [The ancestors of] Mauláná Khwája Ahmad also were sent there. At the time of a disaster in Karákorum,^10a their sons went to Lob Katak, which is one of the most important towns between Turfán and Khotan, and there they were held in much honour and esteem. I was told many particulars concerning all of them, but I have forgotten them for the most part. The last of the sons was called Shaikh Jamál-ud-Din, an austere man who dwelt in Katak.

On a certain Friday, after the prayers, he preached to the people and said: “I have already, on many occasions, preached to you and given you good counsel, but no one of you has listened to me. It has now been revealed to me that God has sent down a great calamity on this town. A Divine ordinance permits me to escape and save myself from this disaster. This is the last sermon I shall preach to you. I take my leave of you, and remind you that our next meeting will be on the day of resurrection.”

Having said this, the Shaikh came down from the pulpit. The Muazzin [crier to prayer] followed him and begged that he might be allowed to accompany him. The Shaikh said he might do so. When they had journeyed three farsákhs they halted, and the Muazzin asked permission to return to the town to attend to some business, saying he would come back again immediately. As he was passing the mosque, he said to himself: “For a last time, I will just go and call out the evening prayer.” So he ascended the minaret and called the evening prayer. As he was doing so, he noticed that something was raining down from the sky; it was like snow, but dry. He finished his “call,” and then stood praying for a while. Then he descended, but found that the door of the minaret was blocked, and he could not get out. So he again ascended and, looking round, discovered that it was raining sand, and to such a degree that the whole town was covered; after a little while he noticed that the ground was rising, and at last only a part of the minaret was left free. So, with fear and trembling, he threw himself from the tower on to the sand; and at midnight he rejoined the Shaikh, and told him his story. The Shaikh immediately set out on his road, saying: “It is better to keep at a distance from the wrath of God.” They fled in great haste; and that city is, to this day, buried in sand. Sometimes a wind comes, and lays bare the minaret or the top of the dome. It often happens also, that a strong wind uncovers a house, and when any one enters it he finds everything in perfect order, though the master has become white bones. But no harm has come to the inanimate things.^11a

In short, the Shaikh finally came to Bái Gul,^12a which is in the vicinity of Aksu. At that time Tughluk Timur Khán was in Aksu. When he had first been brought there he was sixteen years of age. He was eighteen when he first met the Shaikh, and he met him in the following way. The Khán had organised a hunting-party, and had promulgated an order that no one should absent himself from the hunt. It was, however, remarked that some persons were seated in a retired spot. The Khán sent to fetch these people, and they were seized, bound and brought before him, inasmuch as they had transgressed the commands of the Khán, and had not presented themselves at the hunt. The Khán asked them: “Why have you disobeyed my commands?” The Shaikh replied: “We are strangers, who have fled from the ruined town of Katak. We know nothing about the hunt nor the ordinances of the hunt, and therefore we have not transgressed your orders.” So the Khán ordered his men to set the Tájik free. He was, at that time, feeding some dogs with swine's flesh, and he asked the Shaikh angrily: “Are you better than this dog, or is the dog better than you?” The Shaikh replied: “If I have faith I am better than this dog; but if I have no faith, this dog is better than I am.” On hearing these words, the Khán retired and sent one of his men, saying: “Go and place that Tájik upon your own horse, with all due respect, and bring him here to me.”

The Moghul went and led his horse before the Shaikh. The Shaikh noticing that the saddle was stained with blood (of pig) said: “I will go on foot.” But the Moghul insisted that the order was that he should mount the horse. The Shaikh then spread a clean handkerchief over the saddle and mounted. When he arrived before the Khán, he noticed that this latter was standing alone in a retired spot, and there were traces of sorrow on his countenance. The Khán asked the Shaikh: “What is this thing that renders man, if he possess it, better than a dog?” The Shaikh replied: “Faith,” and he explained to him what Faith was, and the duties of a Musulmán. The Khán wept thereat, and said: “If I ever become Khán, and obtain absolute authority, you must, without fail, come to me, and I promise you I will become a Musulmán.” He then sent the Shaikh away with the utmost respect and reverence. Soon after this the Shaikh died. He left a son of the name of Arshad-ud-Din, who was exceedingly pious. His father once dreamed that he carried a lamp up to the top of a hill, and that its light illumined the whole of the east. After that, he met Tughluk Timur Khán in Aksu, and said what has been mentioned above. Having related this to his son, he charged him, saying: “Since I may die at any moment, let it be your care, when the young man becomes Khán, to remind him of his promise to become a Musulmán; thus this blessing may come about through your mediation and, through you, the world may be illumined.”

Having completed his injunctions to his son, the Shaikh died. Soon afterwards Tughluk Timur became Khán. When news of this reached Mauláná Arshad-ud-Din, he left Aksu and proceeded to Moghulistán, where the Khán was ruling in great pomp and splendour. But all his efforts to obtain an interview with him, that he might execute his charge, were in vain. Every morning, however, he used to call out the prayers near to the Khán's tent. One morning the Khán said to one of his followers: “Somebody has been calling out like this for several mornings now; go and bring him here.” The Mauláná was in the middle of his call to prayer when the Moghul arrived, who, seizing him by the neck, dragged him before the Khán. The latter said to him: “Who are you that thus disturb my sleep every morning at an early hour?” He replied: “I am the son of the man to whom, on a certain occasion, you made the promise to become a Musulmán.” And he proceeded to recount the above related story. The Khán then said: “You are welcome, and where is your father?” He replied: “My father is dead, but he entrusted this mission to me.” The Khán rejoined: “Ever since I ascended the throne I have had it on my mind that I made that promise, but the person to whom I gave the pledge never came. Now you are welcome. What must I do?” On that morn the sun of bounty rose out of the east of divine favour, and effaced the dark night of Unbelief. Khidmat Mauláná ordained ablution for the Khán, who, having declared his faith, became a Musulmán. They then decided that for the propagation of Islám, they should interview the princes one by one, and it should be well for those who accepted the faith, but those who refused should be slain as heathens and idolaters.

On the following morning, the first to come up to be examined alone was Amir Tulik, who was my great grand-uncle. When he entered the Khán's presence, he found him sitting with the Tájik, and he advanced and sat down with them also. Then the Khán began by asking, “Will you embrace Islám?” Amir Tulik burst into tears and said: “Three years ago I was converted by some holy men at Káshghar, and became a Musulmán, but, from fear of you, I did not openly declare it.” Thereupon the Khán rose up and embraced him; then the three sat down again together. In this manner they examined the princes one by one. All accepted Islám, tillit came to the turn of Jarás, who refused, but suggested two conditions, one of which was: “I have a man named Sataghni Buka,^14a if this Tájik can overthrow him I will become a Believer.” The Khán and the Amirs cried out, “What absurd condition is this!” Khidmat Mauláná, however, said: “It is well, let it be so. If I do not throw him, I will not require you to become a Musulmán.” Jarás then said to the Mauláná: “I have seen this man lift up a two year old camel. He is an Infidel, and above the ordinary stature of men.” Khidmat Mauláná replied, “If it is God's wish that the Moghuls become honoured with the blessed state of Islám, He will doubtless give me sufficient power to overcome this man.” The Khán and those who had become Musulmáns were not pleased with these plans. However, a large crowd assembled, the Káfir was brought in, and he and Khidmat Mauláná advanced towards one another. The Infidel, proud of his own strength, advanced with a conceited air. The Mauláná looked very small and weak beside him. When they came to blows, the Mauláná struck the Infidel full in the chest, and he fell senseless. After a little, he came to again, and having raised himself, fell again at the feet of the Mauláná, crying out and uttering words of Belief.^15a The people raised loud shouts of applause, and on that day 160,000 persons cut off the hair of their heads and became Musulmáns. The Khán was circumcised, and the lights of Islám dispelled the shades of Unbelief. Islám was disseminated all through the country of Chaghatái Khán, and (thanks be to God) has continued fixed in it to the present time.

Amir Háji Barlás having collected troops from Kesh, Karshi, and that neighbourhood, set out to oppose these combined forces. But on reconsideration, judging the plan to be unwise, he turned with his own force towards Khorásán, before the two armies had come into conflict.

[Arabic verses]:

Judgment is preferable to the valour of heroes;
The former is the first of virtues, the latter stands second;
But when these two are united in one person,
That person can attain the highest summits of fame.

[Persian verses]:

With judgment thou canst put a whole army to rout.
One man with a sword can kill as many as a hundred men.^17a

The events about to be related, all testify to the truth of these statements. For when Amir Háji Barlás heard of the advance of the army of Jatah, he abandoned his own country and set out for Khorásán. He crossed the desert and arrived at the River Jihun. Amir Timur^17b saw well that if he continued in this policy of self-preservation, his native country would go to ruin, and his inherited dominions would fall into confusion, for in that same year his father Amir Trágái had died.

Under these circumstances, although he had not passed the age of twenty five, and his intelligence had not yet received the enlightenment of great experience, Amir Timur determined upon setting these affairs in order, and with this intent took counsel with Amir Háji, saying: “If the kingdom remains without a head, great evils will most surely come upon it, and the people will be entirely annihilated by the violence and perfidy of enemies.”

“Since you wish to proceed into Khorásán, I think I had better return to Kesh, and when I have comforted and encouraged the inhabitants of that place, I will go thence to the court of the Khán. I will confer with the princes and nobles of the State, so that this country and the people, who have been entrusted to our care by God, may come to no harm.”^18a

Having thus spoken he departed. Amir Háji was fully convinced that the words of Amir Timur were divinely inspired, and therefore accepted all his decisions and approved all his plans. When Amir Timur arrived at Khuzár, he met Háji Mahmud Sháh Yasuri, who was acting as guide to the advance body of the army of Jatah. The troops were advancing with all possible haste, whetting the teeth of their lust for plunder and desire for booty, and sewing themselves purses in expectation of the treasure and wealth to be found in that country. Amir Timur succeeded in arranging an amnesty with the generals of this force, saying: “Wait here while I go and see the princes and, with them, determine upon some reasonable and advisable plan.” The wise words of that prince were as heavenly utterances, and had such an effect on the soldiers, that, in spite of their eagerness to advance, they remained where they were. Amir Timur passed safely on, and when he reached Kesh he met the three Amirs of Jatah, who had themselves just arrived there. After friendly greetings had been exchanged, they expressed to him their satisfaction at hearing that he was going to submit himself to the Khán; and they appointed him governor of the district, which had formerly belonged to Amir Karáchár—that is to say, the district round about Kesh, together with its dependencies; with the result that, by his wise conduct, the torrent of distress and calamity which threatened to overwhelm this country was turned aside, and the people again enjoyed that repose which they had lost all hopes of recovering. [Verses] …

In the opinion of the most ignorant people, it seemed that a great piece of good fortune had befallen Amir Timur, but Fate had still a thousand successes in store for him.

After this, Amir Timur took leave of the princes and threw the shadow of his protection and care upon the tribe. He commanded troops to be collected between Shahr-i-Sabz and the River Jihun, and in a short time, having mustered a very large army, set out, together with Amir Yasuri. At this time a dispute arose among the princes of Jatah, who having withdrawn all their troops from Mávará-un-Nahr, returned to the headquarters of Tughluk Timur Khán. After that, Báyázid Jaláir, with the whole of his following, joined the side of Amir Timur and Amir Khizar Yasuri.

WHEN desire for the government of Mávará-un-Nahr a second time seized the skirt of Tughluk Timur Khán's enthusiasm, he prepared an innumerable army and, in the month of Jamád-alávla of the year 762 (A.D. 1361), corresponding to the year of the Ox in the Tartar cycle, he again marched for that country. When he arrived at Khojand, Amir Báyázid Jaláir came to offer him his services. Amir Báyán Salduz also, as a sign of his obedience, went forward as far as Samarkand to meet the Khán, and Háji Barlás, although at the time of the Khán's first invasion he had opposed him, trusting to Providence, now presented himself before him. In the meanwhile the Khán had given orders to his men to capture Amir Báyázid and put him to death. Amir Háji Barlás, fearing a similar fate, fled towards Kesh. He got together some of his own tribe and led them across the Jihun, but they were attacked by the Kashmir^19a regiment of the Jatah army, who were pursuing them, and a battle took place, in which Jughám Barlás was killed, and Amir Háji retired to Khorásán. On his arrival at Khorasha, which is a village of Buluk-i-Juvin,^19b a dependency of Sebzvár, he was seized by a band of brigands and, together with his brother Idegu, was killed. After the conquest of Khorásán (which event made Amir Timur feel himself in some way avenged) and after some of them^19c had been put to death, that village became a fief of the heirs of Amir Háji, and up to the present time the inhabitants thereof are their subjects and agents.

Among the Amirs at the court of Jatah was a certain Amir Hamid, of the tribe of Kurlukut,^19d who was distinguished above his peers at the court by his wisdom and common sense. He had free access to the Khán, and whatever he proposed in the way of advice or approval, was acceptable. At this time he began to praise and extol the virtues of Amir Timur to the Khán, and he begged the Khán to restore to the prince, the territory that was his by right of inheritance. The Khán lent a favourable ear to his entreaties, and a messenger was immediately despatched to fetch Amir Timur. The prince accordingly came to the Khán, received from him the warmest welcome, and was appointed Governor of Kesh and Tumán,^20a together with their dependencies.

In the winter of that year, the Khán determined to make war upon Amir Husain,^20b and set out against him. Amir Husain, for his part, also raised an army and led it as far as the River Vakhsh. Here he pitched his camp. When the Khán had passed the Iron Gate^20c and arrived near to where Amir Husain was encamped, the two armies came in sight of one another and were preparing to engage, when Kaikhosru of Khatlán, together with his men, left the side of Amir Husain and joined the army of the Khán, thus breaking the order of battle of the former.^21a When Amir Husain perceived this, he turned and fled. The victorious Khán went in pursuit of him, and crossing the Jihun, penetrated as far as Kunduz. His troops pillaged all the country round about, as far as the mountains of Hindu Kush, and spent the following spring and summer in that region.

ON the approach of autumn, the Khán set out for Samarkand, and on the journey gave orders for Amir Bayán Salduz to be killed, according to the code of the Moghuls.^22a When he reached Samarkand, he had the whole of Mávará-un-Nahr under his command and rule, and all the nobles and princes of the country were compelled to swear allegiance to him. Some, however, whom he suspected of treachery, he treated as he had treated Amir Bayán Salduz. Others, whom he found he could rely on, he bestowed favours and distinctions upon. He entrusted the government of the conquered districts to his son Ilyás Khwája Oghlán, and he assigned to him a number of the amirs and soldiers of the army of Jatah, over whom he appointed Begjik. Amir Timur was charged with the most important duties in the administration of the State, under the orders of the young prince; and when the Khan had assured himself of the sagacity of Amir Timur, he handed over the whole direction of the State to him, and returned to his own seat of government. Tughluk Timur, in short, again left the country of Mávará-un-Nahr. He had given supreme authority over all the princes and people of Jatah, to Amir Begjik, and had deputed Amir Timur to look to the welfare of the people. But Amir Begjik did not obey the instructions of the Khán, for not only did he exercise tyranny and violence, but even attempted open revolt [against the Khán]. When Amir Timur saw that the orders of the Khán were not being complied with, and that, in consequence, the State would fall into disorder, he did not think fit to stay any longer in the country, but fled, with the intention of discovering Amir Husain. Since he could learn no news of the whereabouts of Amir Husain, he turned towards the deserts.^22b

In short, the substance of what we find in the Moghul traditions is, that Tughluk Timur Khán's dominions extended as far as Samarkand, and even further, but no precise facts have come down to us. Amir Buláji, who has been already mentioned as having raised Tughluk Timur Khán to the Khánate, sought nine privileges for himself from the Khán, which privileges had been granted to his ancestors by Chingiz Khán, and which my family have inherited. I have seen them myself. They were written in Kunduz, in the Moghul language, and I mention this circumstance because, by it, the Moghuls prove that the Khán's rule extended as far as Kunduz. It is stated, in the Zafar-Náma, that the Khán died in the year 764. The Moghul traditions say that Tughluk Timur, at the age of 16, was brought from [the] Kálmák [country] by Amir Buláji, as has been related; at the age of 18 he became Khán, at the age of 24 he became a Musul-mán, and died at the age of 34. He was born in the year 730.

THE Moghuls have preserved no traditions concerning this Ilyás Khwája Khán, but I have heard my father mention his name, and the Zafar-Náma makes occasional mention of him, in connection with other events. These passages I have transcribed in substance.

THE two princes then proceeded to Kunduz, and there collected some troops from the tribe of Boldái.^23a Thence they marched towards Badakhshán, and when they arrived at Taikhán,^24a they concluded a peace with the Kings of Badakhshán and effaced every trace of bitterness of feeling. From there again they went to Arhang,^24b where they crossed the river onto the side of Sáli-Sarái,^24c and advanced towards Khatlán; then, having traversed the desert, they arrived at a place called Gulak,^24d where they encamped. In accordance with the words “and we have ordained the night as a time for repose,” they retired to rest. After Amir Timur had taken off his clothes, with the intention of going to bed, and had withdrawn his blessed feet from the fatiguing companionship of his boots, Amir Husain sent a person to beg him to come to him, and when he arrived, he found, among those present in the assembly, Pulád Bughá and Shir Bahrám. Amir Husain began to make complaints of Shir Bahrám to Amir Timur, saying: “We are now close upon the enemy; this is not the time for him to abandon us; it is not acting in an honourable way.” Amir Timur did his best to induce Shir Bahrám not to desert them, but without success, and this latter set out for Biljaván.^24e

In the meanwhile, the news was confirmed that Tughluk Salduz and Kaikhusru were advancing with the army and many of the Amirs of Jatah, and besides these there were assembled, between Jálá^24f and the “Bridge of Stone” [Pul i Sangin],^24g Timur son of Bubakan, Sárik, Shengum, Tughluk Khwája brother of Haji Beg, Kuj Timur son of Begjik, and other commanders of thousands [tuman] and regiments [kushun] with fifty thousand men, though more than six thousand had deserted the royal camp. But Amir Timur placed firm trust in the assistance of God, and comforted his men with the verse, “How many armies small in number, have overcome infinite hosts, by the permission of God,” which he seemed to hear repeated in his car by a voice from the unseen world.

With two thousand brave men, he marched out to meet the enemy, and the opposing forces met on the Stone Bridge. A battle ensued which lasted from early morning till nightfall; and during all that day these brave and experienced warriors fought, until they had no strength left to continue. Moreover the inequality of the forces was great.

Amir Timur, considering the situation, saw that victory could not be with his side, if the sword of valour were not brightened with the polish of good counsel, and he understood that if the arrow of courage were not let fly from the thumb-stall of deliberation, its whistling would not sound to them as news of triumph. These things he pondered in his mind, until the reed of assurance and conviction, painted a picture of welfare and safety upon the tablet of his enlightened intelligence.

AMIR TIMUR ordered Amir Musa, Amir Muvayid Arlát and Uchkará Bahádur, with a force of 500 picked men, to wait for the enemy near the Stone Bridge, while he himself, with 1500 men, swam the river at midnight and took up his position on the mountains. On the following day, the sentinels of the enemy saw, by their footprints, that they had crossed the river during the night; and they were very much perturbed in consequence. When night set in, Amir Timur commanded his soldiers to light a great number of fires on the summits of the highest of the mountains; and at the sight of these fires the enemy were seized with fear and terror, so that they lost heart and fled. Thus did God, without the trouble of a battle, scatter this numerous army, which was in the proportion of ten warriors to one of their opponents. “Verily God giveth the victory to whomsoever He will.”

The enemy being thrown into flight and confusion, Amir Timur rushed down the mountain with his army, like a raging lion or a mighty boiling torrent, and pursued them as far as Gujarát^25a —falling upon them with his life-taking sword and his soul-biting lance, till the road was covered with the heaps of their slain. In this place he halted, victorious and happy, while Amir Husain with the rest of the army continued the pursuit. This victory helped to spread the fame of Amir Timur and much encouraged his troops. Feeling the reality and importance of the advantages he had just secured, Amir Timur again set out with two thousand men; and when he arrived at Kuhlagha,^26a the people of Kesh and the districts round about, fleeing from the army of Jatah, kept coming to him in detachments, with offers to serve him if he would protect them. Out of the two thousand men Amir Timur had brought with him, he selected three hundred as his own special bodyguard. With these he advanced, commanding the rest to stay behind. He then sent on two hundred of these men, under the Amirs Sulaimán Barlás, Chakui Barlás, Bahrám Jaláir, Jaláluddin Barlás, Saifuddin and Yultimur, to Kesh, telling them to divide into four squadrons, and ordering every man to suspend from either side of his horse, a large leafy branch, in order that much dust might be raised and so cause the governor of Kesh, if he saw them, to beat a retreat.^26b They carried out his orders exactly, so that when they entered the plains of Kesh, the governor, frightened at the sight of so much dust, took to flight, and they entered the town, where they occupied themselves with the appointment of officers and the like.

Thus the boundless favour of God descended in such a manner upon this king, that by means of sparks of fire he was able to put an army to flight, and with dust to conquer a town.

At that time Ilyás Khwája Khán was encamped at Tásh Arighi, which is four farasangs distant from Kesh; he had round him his nobles and princes and an innumerable army. About this time Tughluk Timur Khán died. Ulugh Timur and Amir Hamid came to announce the news to Ilyás Khwája Khán and to bring him back to his tribe, that he might rule in his father's stead.

Mean while, Amir Timur, with one hundred chosen men, having marched all the night, came to Khuzár, and when day broke, the people of that town learnt the arrival of that royal prince and hastened out to kiss the ground in obeisance to him. He then combined the troops of Khuzár and Kesh, and put Khwája Sálibari in command of the rearguard. With this mighty army he set out for Chekadálik, and on arrival there, pitched his camp. At that place too, he was joined by Muhammad, son of Salduz, with seven regiments, and he remained there seven days. In the meanwhile, Amir Husain arrived with his own forces, and with those that Amir Timur had left behind at Kuhlagha. Shir Bahrám also, who had separated from them in the desert [or plain] of Gulak, in order to visit his own people, now rejoined them, after an absence of forty-three days. They then all set forth together, under the command of Amir Timur and Amir Husain, in the direction of Khuzár, and on their arrival there, visited the tomb of Khwája Resmes,^26c in the name of whose blessed spirit they made a solemn alliance and swore eternal friendship.

THE Prophet (upon whom be the peace of God) said: “True dreams are one of the forty-six gifts of prophecy,” and the explanation of this tradition is that when the all-knowing, all-powerful God (may He be exalted and magnified), places upon the forehead of some great person the distinctive mark of His favour, He so enlightens him that He causes him to understand the secrets of the invisible world, reveals unto his human spirit the things that are to come to pass, and makes him aware of occurrences that have not yet taken place. Joseph was informed, by revelation, of the coming of his father and brothers several years before that event took place. And Muhammad, Prince of the Prophets, had revealed to him the conquest of Mekka.

In the same way, as Amir Timur was one day reflecting upon the straits he was in, and the smallness of his army in comparison with that of the enemy, and considering what would be the best line of action, he fell asleep, and heard a voice say to him, in eloquent language: “Be of good cheer and grieve not, for God has given you victory.” When he awoke from his slumber, he asked, “Did anyone speak?” All present replied, “Indeed not!” So he was convinced that the words were spoken by a voice from heaven, and that the sweet-scented breeze of good news had blown from the rose-garden of God's graciousness and favour. His confidence in the assistance of God was absolute, and he went to Amir Husain with fresh enthusiasm and renewed vigour, telling him what had happened. The good tidings were spread about among all the troops, and they were much encouraged; their obedient hearts blossomed out, as do the rosebuds with the zephyr of the morn.

AMIR HUSAIN and Amir Timur, having offered up praise and thanksgiving to the Padishah of Padishahs (may His name be exalted), mounted their horses and began to make preparations for battle. They divided the army into two parts; Amir Husain commanded the right wing, and raised the victorious standard, while Amir Timur led the left wing of his troops, who were so accustomed to victory. Having arranged all this, and having put the army into order of battle, they went forward.

The enemy meanwhile were at Tásh Arighi, and they, in the same manner, divided their forces into two parts; Ilyás Khwája Khán and Amir Hamid commanding the left wing, and Amir Tuk Timur and Amir Begjik the right. The opposing armies, having drawn themselves up in order of battle,^28a attacked one another with vigorous onslaught.

The fighting began at a place called Kaba Matan, and clamour and shouting filled the vault of the heavens. The first attack was made upon the soldiers of Amir Timur, by the scouts of the enemy, who were boasting of the superiority of their army in numbers, and were burning for the fray.

But Timur, keeping his foot as firmly fixed upon the spot where he was standing, as was his kingdom upon its foundations, seized his bow and arrow and made his left arm like an Alif and his right arm like a Dál.^28b [Verses] …

And his soldiers, in imitation of their king, discharged their missiles into the souls of the enemy, just as the starry army of the moon let fly their shooting stars; and the reed of the arrow—according to the words “we have ordained them as missiles against the evil spirits”—made such writing with the blood of the scouts, that not one of them remained alive…^28c

Among those slain were Tuk Timur, a Beg, brother of Begjik, Daulat Shah, and two princes besides, who were both of them leaders of the other army.

The two armies then rushed upon one another, and blood flowed from the enemy as if it were tears from a thousand eyes.

The attacks and charges of the veteran warriors grew more frequent, and the waves of the ocean of combat increased. Amir Timur, in accordance with the blessed promise (thanks be to God, who has aided and blessed us), was able to overcome and put to rout this enormous army, in comparison with which his own was but as a drop of rain. “And there is no victory but from God.”

Amir Ilyás Khwája, Amir Begjik, Iskandar Oghlán, Amir Hamid and Amir Yusuf were taken prisoners. But the generosity, common to all Turks, was favourable to the Khán, for the soldiers who had captured him, when they recognised him, without saying anything to their leaders, mounted him and Begjik on horseback and set them at liberty. But the other captives they kept bound. On the same night, Amir Timur continued his march until he reached the River Yám, in order to cut off the retreat of the enemy, of whom many had been killed.

Amir Chagu and Amir Saifuddin, at his command, marched against Samarkand. They conquered this town in the beginning of the year 765 of the Hajra [A.D. 1363], corresponding to the year of the Crocodile [Lui] of the Tartar cycle.

Amir Timur, who was attended by success in all his endeavours and desires, bastened to hold counsel with Amir Husain and Shir Bahrám, and then set out in pursuit of the enemy. Having crossed the river at Khojand, he fixed his royal camp at Tashkand, and there, in order that his good fortune might not be quite perfect, he was afflicted with a few days' sickness. [Verses] …

Both Amir Timur and Amir Husain were for a short time a prey to a malady in that place. But they were soon released from the house of sickness; and the illustrious Princess Uljái Turkán arrived in safety from Kar.^29a

Amir Timur then resolved to return, and therefore recrossed the river at Khojand. Being seized with a desire to hunt, he threw out a ring of beaters round a large extent of country, and Amir Husain did the same thing in a place called Dazák Bulbul. They set out from opposite directions towards Akár Kamár. Several days were spent in pleasure and amusement, according to the words, “Seize the opportunity while you may,” and then they returned in safety to Samarkand.

At the joyful advent of this augmenter of happiness and decorator of kingdoms, the people of that district were illumined by the protecting dust of the royal prince, so that the evils of the buffetings of events, which had crept in among high and low, were cured by the healing properties of his humanity and encouragement.

WHEN the countries of Mávará-un-Nahr and Turkistán, together with all their dependencies, had been delivered from the domination and oppression of the people of Jatah, no one of the chief princes or more important generals would submit to the orders and commands of another;^30a for all the chiefs of tribes, making boast of the large number of their subjects and followers, wished to retain independence and would suffer no control. For it has been said: A number of people without a central unity to direct them, will perish, and a kingdom without a ruler to give laws to the inhabitants, and prevent them transgressing the same, will most certainly fall into a state of disorder.

Under these conditions, Amir Husain and Amir Timur took counsel together, and determined that it would be advisable to set up, as Khán, one of the descendants of Chaghatai Khán, while for the execution of this plan they convoked an assembly of all the chiefs and princes, in the year 765 of the Hajra [A.D. 1363-4], to discuss the settlement of the affairs of the State. They finally determined to appoint Kábil Sháh Oghlán as Khán. He was the son of Durji, son of Ilchikádi, son of Davá Khán. In order to avoid the trials and troubles of public life, he had taken to ways of poverty and solitude, and had clothed himself like a darvish. They resolved to divest him of his poor garments, and to array his noble figure in the richly-embroidered robes of the Khánship. To this end:

They succeeded in placing Kábil Sháh Oghlán upon the throne; and, as was customary among the Turkish Sultans, he was presented with a goblet.^30b

Amir Haidar Andarkhudi^30c was given over to Zinda Hásham, who executed him on that same night. [Verses] …

When the country had once again been brought under the rule of Amir Timur, he made a great display of his liberality and hospitality, and gave a great feast in honour of Amir Husain. His own stewards prepared the banquet.

Amir Timur showed much favour to his own special subjects, and bestowed suitable presents on Amir Husain.

Since the father of Amir Haidar was on the most friendly terms with Amir Timur, he was invited to the feast; for his intelligence had received brightness from the polish of experience of long years. With him and Amir Husain, he discussed the advisability of setting Amir Hamid and Iskandar Oghlán at liberty; and Amir Husain (in spite of the words

out of consideration for the noble-mindedness of Amir Timur, did not refuse his entreaty, but gave sanction for the two prisoners to be released.

As soon as Amir Husain had set out for Sáli-Sarái, his residence in his own province, Amir Timur sent Amir Dáud and Amir Saifuddin to release the two prisoners, and to bring them back with all respect and honour; but Báyázid and Aiman, who had the custody of Amir Hamid and Iskandar Oghlán, on seeing the two messengers, thought they had come to kill Amir Hamid, and therefore hastened to put him to death, one giving him a blow with a mace and the other striking him with a sword. Such was the end of Amir Hamid. When Amir Husain heard of this, he said: “The work of the servant was better than the work of the master,” and at once sent a messenger in search of Iskandar Oghlán, to kill him.

During the winter of that year, Amir Husain and Amir Timur devoted their attention to the internal affairs of the State, so that the country attained a condition of perfect peace and prosperity.

Happiness often results from the traces left by misfortune, and a state of equanimity and success often has its origin in distress and failure.

[Verses.] …

The course of events in the time of Amir Timur is a proof and example of the above truths.

For when the winter (during which he had devoted his time to the peaceful administration of the affairs of his State) had passed, and spring at length arrived; (When the warrior spring had raised the standards of the tulips and had led out his army of green plants into the plains of gardens and meadows,

[When spring set in] news came that the hosts of Jatah were again on their way towards this country [i.e., Mávará-un-Nahr]. Amir Timur began at once to collect his army together, and sent to inform Amir Husain of the report. The latter ordered Pulád Bughá and Zinda Hásham, son of Muhammad Aperdi, and Malik Bahádur to collect their forces and set out with all possible speed to join Amir Timur. They met, and at once marched together against the enemy. On their arrival at Akár,^32a they inspected the cavalry and beasts of burden, and remained there several days to take advantage of the excellence of the pasturage. Departing thence, they cressed the River Sihun^32b and encamped [on the opposite side]. Amir Husain hastened on in the direction of the enemy, with a large body of men, till he came to the banks of the river, where he caught sight of some of their outposts.

Amir Timur now removed his camp to the river-side, between Chináz and Tashkend, and commanded his men to fortify their tents, which they did with great care. Meanwhile Amir Husain crossed the Sihun with his whole army, and halted in the entrenchments [murchál] destined for his troops. The enemy had also encamped on the same side of the river, having reached it at early morn. Amir Timur and Amir Husain once more advanced, and as soon as the scouts of the two forces came in sight, preparations were made for battle and each army was arrayed in fighting order. Amir Husain commanded the right wing, and Tirlánji Irlát led the rearguard; his vanguard was under the command of Ujá Betu Irdi,^32c Shir Bahrám, Pulád Bughá, Farhád Aberdi, Malik Bahádur, and many other valiant soldiers. Amir Timur, who was the soul of the whole army, led the left wing, and he appointed Amir Sár Bughá, with the tribe of Kipchák, to the rearguard, and Timur Khwája Oghlán to the vanguard. Close at his side he kept Amir Chágu, Amir Saifuddin, Amir Murád Barlás, Abbás Bahádur, and many other brave men of the sword.

In this order they attacked the enemy, but in pursuance with the words: “It is an evil day for you when you boast of your own strength or numbers,” they were not spared from an unexpected punishment, for the army of Jatah, which, in spite of its superiority in numbers, had been defeated at Kaba Matan, now that they found their opponents exceeded them in numbers, had recourse to magic, and sought aid from the Jadah stone, which possessed supernatural properties.^32d

Although the sun was in Orion, a host of dark clouds suddenly filled the sky. The thunder resounded and the lightning flashed. The elements rushed out from the ambush of destiny into the open plain of the ether, and the thunderclaps re-echoed round the azure vault of heaven. The arrows of lightning were shot out, in all directions, from the bow of the thunder-clouds, and the rain shot down its whistling darts. It seemed as if the Fates had again become a prey to the love of rebellion and confusion. Such a quantity of water descended from the eyes of the stars, that the Deluge seemed to occur a second time. And the voice of Noah was again heard to pray for the cessation of the waters of heaven.

The beasts of the field began to swim about in the water like fishes; and the feet of the horses stuck so fast in the mire, that the skin of their bellies adhered to the crust of the earth, while the damp caused their bones to become bare. They were afflicted with Asterkha, and began to lose their flesh and become paralytic, their bones being loosened. The feathers of the arrows fell out: the notches came off; while clothes and accoutrements became so heavy with the damp, that neither cavalry nor infantry were able to advance. In consequence of all this, our host^33a lost their confidence and courage. But the army of the enemy, remaining where they were, covered themselves over with felt, and as far as they were able, preserved their clothes and arms from the violence of the rain. When our army came up to them, they threw aside their felt coverings and offered battle with fresh horses and uninjured arms; then the combat began in good earnest.

The spheres ring again with the cries of the heroes and the sound of the kerranái.^34a

Amir Timur, by the aid of God, made a charge with the left wing, and overcame the right wing of the enemy, which was led by Shenkummuyán, brother of Amir Hamid; and when Ilyás Khwája Khán saw this, he fled in confusion. But meanwhile fortune had deserted the right wing of our army, for the enemy's left, led by Sharáwal and Háji Beg, attacked and overcame our right; they drove Tilánji^34b and Zinda Hásham back to where Amir Husain was posted, and the body-guard of the latter being terrified, turned and fled. But Pulád Bughá and Shir Bahrám stood their ground and displayed the utmost courage. Háji Beg continued the attack and outflanked our right. Farhád and Orong Timur^34c were astounded at the sight of this. But Amir Shams-ud-Din, on the other hand, having withdrawn the hand of bravery from the sleeve of temerity, made, with his men, a great display of courage.

And now the fuel of the ardour of Amir Timur took fire; he seized his sword

He charged the enemy with seventeen regiments [kushun]; the wind of his onslaught threw fire and fear upon the harvest of their stability, so that Amir Shams-ud-Din, terrified at the fierceness of Timur's attack, was obliged to turn the reins of power from the field of battle, and to set the face of helplessness and defeat in the direction of flight. This success of Amir Timur gave Amir Husain an opportunity to re-assemble his troops, and having done so, he stood his ground.

Amir Timur sent his servant Tábán Bahádur to Amir Husain, saying: “It is time for the Amirs to advance. Let us, together, make such a charge that we may cause an earthquake among the proud princes of the enemy: so that they may lose all power to resist us and all strength to oppose us.”

But in proportion as the power of Amir Timur rose, so did the star of felicity of Amir Husain begin to decline, and his happiness to approach the evening of distress, according to the text, “God doth not work any change in the people, until they have altered their own individual selves.” During this period, his nature underwent a great change; he lost his former stability of character, and began to adopt evil habits and practise evil deeds. [Thus] when Tábán Bahádur came before him, Amir Husain abused him much in words, and then struck him so violently that he fell to the ground.

Amir Timur then sent Malik and Hamdami, who were two of Amir Husain's adherents, to tell their master that he must most certainly come, in order that no time should be lost; but Amir Husain, having heard the message, began to abuse the messengers and let loose upon them the tongue of violence and menace; then he added: “Did I run away that you should thus press me to advance? Whether you are victorious or whether the enemy carry the day, there is not one of you shall save his soul from my avenging hand.”

Thereupon Malik and Hamdami, much enraged, left his presence and hastened to Amir Timur, to whom, on their arrival, they said, “It is no use your persisting in the fight.” Amir Timur was persuaded by them and did not oppose their advice, but withdrew the hand of intention. Since the ranks of both armies had been so much broken that the left wings of the opposing forces were facing one another, each soldier encamped [lay down to rest] where he happened to find himself.

During that night Amir Husain sent several times to request that Amir Timur should come to him, but the prince would not give ear to his entreaties. [Verses.] …

When, on the following morning, the two hosts again joined in battle, the army of Jatah was routed and fled. Our troops were pursuing, when they suddenly caught sight of the standard [Tugh or Tuk] of Amir Shams-ud-Din, who had separated himself with a large body of soldiers from the rest of the army. Thereupon the pursuers abandoned their object and turned to attack Shams-ud-Din, while the defeated army again rallied and made a violent onslaught upon our men. Thus our side, after it had gained a victory, was in its turn defeated, and in their haste to get away, many of our men perished in the mud and swamps. The enemy pursued them and put numbers of them to the sword, so that there remained nearly ten thousand slain of our forces on the field of battle.

This battle took place on the 1st day of Ramazán of the year 766 of the Hajra [A.D. 1365], corresponding to the year of the Serpent (Yihán) of the Moghul cycle; and astrologers have shown that this event coincided with the tenth conjunction of the triple aerial conjunctions in the Scorpion. This I only mention, that my history may be complete, but I do not wish to infer that events are caused by celestial influences, for “God alone has influence over creation.”

After this defeat, the princes retired to Kesh. All the chiefs of tribes began to cross the Jihun with their people. Amir Husain said to Amir Timur: “It would be expedient for you to cross the river with your household and troops”; but Timur replied, “Others may cross if they like, but as for me, my patriotism will not permit me to leave my country to the molestation of foreigners. I will again collect an army and attack the enemy.”

Amir Husain then left him and retired to Sáli-Sarái; then he made all his people cross the Jihun, and taking an out-of-the-way route, he reached a place called Shibartu, where he halted. From that place he despatched spies, intending, if these brought news of the approach of the army of Jatah, to take flight at once towards Hindustán.^36a

As soon as Amir Husain had departed from Kesh, Amir Timur turned his mind to preparations for meeting the enemy. He mustered twelve regiments and sent forward eight of them, under the command of Timur Khwája Oghlán, Charuchi,^36b and Abbás Bahádur, to reconnoitre the country round Samarkand. But on the way Charuchi took to drinking much wine, and the liquor made a strong impression on him: as has been said [Arabic]:

Wine is like the wind: When it passes over a perfume, it becomes fragrant: but becomes tainted when it passes over a corpse.

He became intoxicated and began to talk wildly, and very much frightened Daud Khwája and Hindusháh by saying: Such a one (meaning Amir Timur) purposes to send somebody to seize you, to take you before Amir Husain, and to have you killed without delay. [His companions] consequently were much alarmed, and running away, gave themselves up to the enemy. When they reached Kukung, they met the reconnoitring party of the army of Jatah, under the command of Kapak Timur, son of Ulugh Tokatmur Sharáwal, and Angirchák, son of Háji Beg. They offered to act as guides to them and brought them to the place where Timur Khwája Oghlán, Charuchi and Abbás were stationed; these they put to flight, together with all their forces. When Amir Timur heard all this, he knew that he must be patient yet a little longer, and that impetuosity was of no avail.

He crossed the river at Amuyah^36c and went and encamped at Balkh, where he again assembled his scattered tribe. He called to his side Tumán Kapak Khán and Tumán Bughái Salduz; he also appointed a certain number of men to defend the banks of the river, and get what news they could of what was passing on the other side.

Timur Khwája Oghlán was punished for his misconduct, and from this point Fortune continued to favour Amir Timur. [Verses.] …

IN the meanwhile, the army of Jatah reached Samarkand. Now at that time, this town had no citadel, but Mauláná-Zada Samarkandi, Mauláná Khardak Bukhári and Abu Nasr Kului Naddáf influenced the people of Samarkand to defend and fortify the town; and, despite their want of a princely leader, they offered stout resistance to the besiegers. They were bent on saving their city from the domination and tyranny of the people of Jatah. But when the inhabitants were beginning to tire of their efforts and to lose perseverance, God came to their aid and caused a pestilence to appear among the horses of the cavalry of Jatah, so that three-fourths of them died. Consequently, the besiegers were obliged to retire, and the great majority of them returned on foot, with their quivers strapped to their backs. Since the people of Samarkand had so well defended their State, and had offered such determined opposition to their enemies, those among them who had most power became inflated with pride, and tried to obtain precedence over their equals by stirring up sedition and rebellion in the town.

At the time of the retreat of the Jatah army, Amir Timur had sent Abbás Bahádur to Kuhlagha^37a to spy out the land of Jatah, and when he was informed of the events above related—of the state of the people of Jatah and of the retreat of their army—he sent to Amir Husain to inform him also of the state of affairs, and to advise him to proceed in the direction of that country. When Amir Husain heard the news which the messenger brought, he was beyond measure pleased, and immediately set out from Shibartu towards Sáli-Sarái. Amir Timur, having caused his household and people to cross the river, had sent them to their native land, and had started himself on horseback to meet Amir Husain. They met in the plain of Baklán,^37b and having embraced one another in the most respectful manner, they held a long discussion about what had already happened, as well as about the future. It was finally decided that they should proceed together towards Samarkand early in the following spring. Then Amir Timur returned, crossed the Jihun, and encamped at Karshi. Karshi is so-called because Kapak Khán built a palace at [that spot which is] 2 1/2 farasangs distance from Nakhsheb, and in the Moghul language a palace is called Karshi.

There Amir Timur remained during that winter; and he caused to be erected on the spot a citadel [Hisár], which was completed by the end of the winter.

THERE are no traditions or stories extant among the Moghuls relating to Ilyás Khwája Khán. We learn, however, from the Zafar-Náma, that it was upon him that the Khánship devolved after the death of Tughluk Timur Khán. During his reign, there took place his victory of the battle of the Mire, the siege of Samarkand and the abandonment thereof, on account of the epidemic which fell among his horses. He only survived these events a very short time. But an account of the events immediately following the death of Tughluk Timur Khán, as recorded in Moghul tradition, will be given below. For, although knowledge of what happened after the death of Ilyás Khwája Khán is with God only, we know, from Moghul traditions, what occurred after the death of Tughluk Timur Khán. From these sources we learn that there were five brothers: (1) Amir Tulik, who has been mentioned in connection with the conversion of the Khán to Islám; (2) Amir Buláji; (3) Amir Shams-ud-Din, who is mentioned in the Zafar-Náma as having taken part in the battle of the Mire (which passage I have copied into this book); (4) Amir Kamar-uddin, of whom I shall speak later; (5) Amir Shaikh-i-Daulat, of whom no traces remain.

After Amir Tulik's death, the office of Ulusbegi was given to Amir Buláji, and when this latter followed his brother to the dwellings of eternity, the office of Ulusbegi devolved upon his son Amir Khudáidád. But Amir Kamaruddin, going down on his knees before the Khán, said to him: “The office of my brother should first come to me, for his son is only seven years of age and is not fit for the duties attached to the position.” Tughluk Timur Khán would not pay any attention to him, but appointed the then seven-year-old Amir Khudáidád to the office. Kamaruddin was a violent man, and was angry at being superseded by a child of seven; but he could do nothing. When, subsequently, the Khán died he revolted. The Zafar-Náma, on the other hand, says that he raised a rebellion after the death of Ilyás Khwája Khán. However this may be, it appears that on the death of the Khán, Kamaruddin gave vent to that rancour which he had so long cherished in his breast, and (according to Moghul traditions) put to death in one day, eighteen sons of the Khán, and assumed the style of Khán for himself. The country of Moghulistán fell into a state of disorder.

One of Tughluk Timur Khán's sons, who was still at the breast, being concealed by Amir Khudáidád, and his mother, Mir Aghá, was spared. Kamaruddin sent everywhere in search of him, but they were successful in hiding the child from his spies.

Kamaruddin devoted his attention to the affairs of the State, but in consequence of the hostility of the Amirs, there was disorder and strife in the country. Moreover, the invasion of Moghulistán, which Amir Timur and his army undertook at that time, was a serious obstacle to internal progress. Meanwhile Amir Khudáidád sent Khizir Khwája Khán from Káshghar to the hills that are between Káshghar and Badakhshán, that he might be safe from the machinations of Kamaruddin; which matter shall be presently related, but first of all it will be well to give an account of Kamaruddin and his times.

IT has already been said that Kamaruddin tried to assume supreme authority, but that he met with determined opposition from the Amirs. Thus it was that Kumzah, together with Uzbeg Timur (who was of the tribe of Karáit), went over to the side of Amir Timur. Then Amir Timur raised an army, and himself remaining within his own dominions, sent Amir Bahrám Jaláir, Khitái Bahádur, and Shaikh Ali Bahádur to the territory of Almátu.^39a On reaching the banks of the river Áishah Khátun they attacked the men of the Karáit.^39b After this battle, having concluded a peace, they returned. But Amir Timur not approving the peace, invaded the country in person. This expedition is related in the Zafar-Náma as follows:—

The successful Amir Timur, who when he had once undertaken any business was never content till he had carried it through to the end, was dissatisfied with the gentle way in which his generals had treated the enemy, in watering the plains of enmity and warfare with peace. For this reason he sent royal mandates in all directions for troops to be collected [verses] … A victorious and veteran army assembled before the palace of the Sháh—an army countless as the sand of the desert. When he had passed Sairám and Yangi^40a in safety, with his victorious standard, the enemy fled before him, and he reached a place called Sangarigháj,^40b when many prisoners and much booty fell into the hands of his conquering host.

At Adun Kuri,^40c Amir Musá and Zinda Hásham, in spite of all the former benefits they had received from Amir Timur, again began to devise plans of treason and deceit, and with treacherous designs conspired together, [taking into their confidence] the son of Khizir Yasuri, named Abu Ishák. They took a solemn oath that when they reached Kará Samán they would by some stratagem seize the ‘Lord of the Conjunction’ while hunting, and they laughed over the thought of their foolish plan. The Khánzáda Abu Maáli Turmadi and Shaikh Abu Lais of Samarkand, who were already sworn enemies of Amir Timur, now joined in this conspiracy.

But some one happening to get knowledge of the affair, informed Amir Timur thereof. Thereupon his majesty summoned the offenders to appear before him. They were brought in [and thrust] upon their knees, and on being interrogated, were found guilty of high treason and rebellion.

But as the Queen Sarái Mulk Khánim^40d was the niece of Amir Musá, and because the chaste Princess Akka Begi had been promised in marriage to him, Amir Timur said to him: “Although the crime you have committed is a grave one, nevertheless as we are relations, I will forgive you and take no vengeance upon you. [Verses] … Your connection with me and your white beard have given you hope of life. Were it not for these, I should give the command for your evil-intentioned head to be severed from your body.” And to the Khánzáda he said: “As your family is connected with the household of the Prophet (upon all of whose descendants be peace) I shall not consent to your receiving any ill-treatment; you must however quit this country.” He commanded Abu Lais to make the pilgrimage to the Hijáz. The son of Khizir Yasuri, being the brother of the wife of Amir Saifuddin, appealed to the clemency of the ‘Lord of the Conjunction,’ and so escaped from the abyss; thus the tablet of his soul was cleansed of its sins with the pure water of royal beneficence and mercy. A royal mandate was issued, ordering Zinda Hásham to be conveyed, bound, to Samarkand, and there closely confined. When Amir Timur returned to his seat of government [Samarkand] he gave the governorship of Shibarghán, and the position which had been held by Zinda Hásham, to Bayán Timur, son of Ak Bughá.

ON Thursday, the first day of the month of Shabán of the year 776 of the Hajra [A.D. 1375], Amir Timur, having collected an army, marched out towards Jatah—which is equivalent to Moghulistán. On the route he encamped at the Rabát-i-Kataán, when the coldness of the weather caused the sun suddenly to withdraw behind the veil of the clouds, and much rain and snow began to fall.

The violence of the storm deprived the soldiers of their strength, and they were soon no longer able to look after their horses, because of the risk they ran of losing their own lives; in this way many of the men died and a quantity of horses perished. Amir Timur, being moved to pity at this sad state of affairs, commanded them to break up the camp and return to Samarkand, where they remained about two months, until the rigour of the season had in some measure abated. On Monday, the 1st of the month Shawál, at the beginning of the year of the Hare (Tushkán), he again led out his army against the country of Jatah—which is equivalent to Moghulistán.

He sent Amir Záda Jahángir forward to reconnoitre; and to accompany him he sent Shaikh Muhammad Bayán Salduz and Adilsháh, to whom he had entrusted the tribe of Jaláir, on the death of the latter's father, Bahrám Jaláir. Having passed Sairám, they came to a place called Jarun, where they seized one of the soldiers of the army of Jatah and sent him on to Amir Timur. When he was asked for news of Kamaruddin, who was of the tribe [Umák] of Dughlát, he related that Kamaruddin had collected an army and was then stationed at Keuk Tubeh,^41a waiting for Háji Beg, but that no news of the advance of Amir Timur had reached Kamaruddin. Timur then ordered the reconnoitring party to hasten forward, while he himself soon after followed them.

When Kamaruddin heard of these doings, he withdrew his army to an inaccessible spot called Birkah-i-Ghurián^41b [the Pond of the Ghuris]. In that place there are three very deep ravines, through which flow three great rivers. Kamaruddin having crossed two of these valleys with his army, pitched his camp in the third, protecting the approaches thereto with barricades and entrenchments.

But Prince Jahángir marched forward at the head of his experienced soldiers, to the sound of the drums and war-trumpets. After they had wounded and killed many of the enemy with their arrows, they came to close quarters with them, and when night fell, all the enemy took to flight; so that on the morrow not a single man of the army of Jatah—that is to say, Moghulistán—was found in the camp. But our victorious soldiers followed in their pursuit, and put to death many of those heretics. When the sun had risen, Amir Timur arrived on the spot with the rest of the army. He thereupon sent Amir Sayyid Dáud, Husain and Uch Kará Bahádur in pursuit of the enemy. In accordance with his orders, they followed the course of the river, and Husain was drowned in the river. On reaching the enemy's country they began to ravage and pillage, and seized many of their horses. But they spared those Hazáras who submitted, and having disarmed them sent them on to Samarkand. Amir Timur advanced as far as Báiták^42a with the purpose of meeting the enemy, while he sent Amir Záda Jahángir with one regiment to look for Kamaruddin, that he might defeat him and take him prisoner. The prince accordingly set out with a body of men, and laid waste the country of Uch and Firmán.^42b He came upon Kamaruddin in the mountains, and pursued him beyond the limits of his own country; he also captured much booty and took many prisoners. Among the latter were Tumán Aghá, the wife of Kamaruddin and her daughter, Dilshád Aghá. The prince sent news of his success to Amir Timur, who during fifty-three days had not moved from Báiták. When, however, this joyful intelligence reached his ears he immediately set out for Kara Kasmak, which hill he ascended and awaited the happy return of his son Jahángir. On his arrival, the latter, having respectfully kissed Amir Timur's feet, presented him with a quantity of booty, horses and sheep, after which he obtained for Dilshád Aghá the honour of saluting the Emperor. [Verses.] …

Amir Timur, on leaving this encampment, descended to Atbáshi and thence proceeded to Arpa Yázi,^42c where he spent a few days in festivity and rejoicing. There, too, Mubáraksháh Makrit, who was a commander of 9000, and one of Timur's oldest friends, showed his respect for the Amir by causing a grand festival (tái) to be organised in his honour. And he so gained Amir Timur's good graces that he obtained for his son, Khudáidád, the succession to the honours and titles of Salár Oghlán and of Husain, who had both perished in the late war.

AMIR TIMUR, in accordance with the text of the Korán: “Thou shalt marry whatever woman thou pleasest, even unto the number of four women,” set the eye of his favour upon Dilshád Aghá, and resolved to marry her. The officers of the Court made preparations for grand festivities. Wine and song and instrumental music were not wanting, and the whole ceremony was conducted with the greatest pomp and magnificence. The revels having been brought to a close, Amir Timur broke up his camp, and crossing the Yázi Dabán,^43a went and pitched his royal tents at Uzkand. Here he received his eldest sister Kutlugh Turkán Aghá, who, accompanied by several princes and nobles, had arrived from Samarkand; she had the honour of kissing the Emperor's feet, and took part in the festivities which were now again renewed at the Court. From Uzkand they proceeded to Khojand, when Adilsháh, being obliged to show his submission, organised feasts and merry-making in honour of Amir Timur, and made him presents of horses in order that his homage might gain the Amir's approval. His heart, however, was of another colour, for he had really the design of taking him by surprise in the midst of the rejoicings. But Amir Timur (whom God used to watch over continually) by his happy intuition, observed signs of this hidden treason, and detected the evil intentions of the conspirators by their movements. He thereupon rose from the banquet, mounted his horse and returned to his camp.

At the time when he was advancing to attack Kamaruddin, Shaikh Muhammad Bayán Salduz, Adilsháh Jaláir and Turkán Arlát had resolved to seize Amir Timur whenever an occasion should present itself. But their schemings were of no avail against one who was so carefully watched over by the Eternal: and thus he reached his capital without accident. He then disbanded his soldiers, while he himself went to take up his winter quarters at Zanjir Sarái, which is two marches to the west of Karshi. During the winter Adilsháh arrived, and having paid his respects at the palace, confessed to the Amir the evil designs he and the other conspirators had had against him. When Timur heard this, he was wise enough to pretend not to have heard, and showed Adilsháh great favour. When the winter had passed, he issued an order for his soldiers to muster, with the object of making another war upon Khwárizm. All the generals, princes, and soldiers having assembled round his palace, he ordered them to seize Shaikh Muhammad Bayán Salduz and to put him on trial. After his case had been heard, his guilt being clear, he was handed over to the brother of Harimulk Salduz, a relation of his own, whom he had unjustly killed with his sword. The brother avenged Harimulk by killing Shaikh Muhammad in a like manner. Ali Darvish, son of Báyázid Jaláir, was also put to death after being found guilty; while the government of the Tumán of Salduz, together with the administration of justice and police [Sabt], was entrusted to the brave Ak Timur Bahádur.

THIRD EXPEDITION OF AMIR TIMUR INTO KHWÁRIZM, AND HIS RETURN ON ACCOUNT OF THE REVOLT OF SÁR BUGHÁ, ADILSHÁH AND BAHRÁM JALÁIR.

IN the beginning of the spring of the year of the Hajra 777 [A.D. 1375], or the year of the Crocodile (Lui) of the Tartar cycle, Amir Timur, being encouraged by his former good fortune, determined to make an expedition into Khwárizm, preferring war to feasting. [Verses] …

Having, therefore, appointed Amir Ak Bughá Governor of Samarkand, and having sent Amir Sár Bughá, Adilsháh Jaláir, Khitái Bahádur, Ilchi Bughá and other commanders of thousands, with 30,000 horsemen, to Jatah (which is equivalent to Moghulistán), he gave them express orders to seek diligently for Kamaruddin, and to kill him wherever they might find him; he then raised his own victorious standard and set out for Khwárizm with a numerous army. On reaching a place on the banks of the Jihun, called Sihpáyah, he saw Turkan Arlát approaching on the other side of the river. The latter, however, feeling that the end of his life had come, did not deem it advisable to advance, but fled back with his men to Kuzruán.^44a Amir Timur thereupon sent Pulád after him with a few men. They marched day and night, and having passed Andkhud they came up to the fugitives at Fáryáb,^44b which is on a river, where Turkan, with his brother Turmish and their men, taking up their position on the bank of the river, offered them fight. The enemy stood like lions at first, but they were at length defeated and compelled to take to flight, the victorious army following close upon their heels. Pulád alone came up to Turkan. His horse being fatigued, Turkan dismounted and ran forward on foot; he then struck Pulád's horse with the shaft of an arrow, and before the latter could rise from the ground, aimed at him another arrow, which only passed through Pulád's helmet. Then Pulád, becoming more furious,^45a made a bold rush at him, and they wrestled together for some time, till at last Pulád got the upper hand, and crying out, “Long live Amir Timur!” struck Turkan to the ground. He then cut off his head and returned in triumph.

Amán Sarbadál, who had gone in pursuit of Turkan's brother, Turmish, came up with him, overcame him, and severed his head from his body. His corpse became meat for the wild beasts, while the heads of the two were taken before Amir Timur.

Of those Amirs whom Timur had sent into Jatah (that is to say, Moghul-istán), ^45b Sár Bughá and Adilsháh, when they found the country empty,^45c prepared another plan of revolt; they seized Khitái Bahádur, and Ilchi Bughá, while Hamadi, whom Amir Timur had made Governor of Andakan [Andiján], allied himself with them. Having collected their tribes, namely, the Jaláir and the Kipchák, they set out against Samarkand, and began to lay siege to it. But the inhabitants defended themselves so successfully with arrows and darts, that they could not surround the town. Amir Ak Bughá, who was governor of the town, wrote of this matter to Timur, who having passed Kát^45d had just attained Khás, when this news reached him. He immediately made preparations to return, and, having sent forward his son Jahángir, in command of the vanguard, he himself followed with a large army. When he reached Bokhárá he put his men into fighting order, and went and encamped at Rabát-i-Malik.

Prince Jahángir came up with the enemy at a place called Karmina, where a battle took place. The air was filled with the sound of cymbals, and much blood was shed. But the Prince Jahángir, relying on the aid of the eternal God, at length overcame the enemy, who fled into the deserts of Kipchák, where they put themselves under the protection of Urus Khán.^45e Timur Beg, finding himself victorious, returned in peace to his capital. He then divided the tribe of Jaláir between his Amirs, and appointed his son Omar Shaikh Governor of Andakán [Andiján].

Adilsháh and Sár Bughá remained in the service of Urus Khán. But at length their thirst for rebellion again got the better of them, and once, while Urus Khán was absent at his summer quarters, they ran away, and drawing the sword of treachery from the sheath of infidelity, made war on Uchibi, a lieutenant of the Khán, and killed him. They then fled to the court of Kamaruddin in Jatah (that is, Moghulistán) and tried to stir up in him a spirit of revolt.

AFTER Sár Bughá and Adilsháh had attached themselves to Kamaruddin, they used every possible means to rekindle in him the old fire of enmity which he naturally cherished against Amir Timur. Kamaruddin finally led an army into the country of Andakán, where the Hazára of Kudak, deserting Omar Shaikh, joined the side of the enemy. But Omar Shaikh, having taken up a fortified position in the mountains, sent a messenger whose name was Dáshmand, to Amir Timur to tell him that the enemy had arrived with a large army, and that they had overrun the whole of Andakán. Amir Timur was much enraged when he heard this, and immediately set out with all haste for that country. When Kamaruddin heard of the advance of Amir Timur he retired from the place where he was encamped, and having caused his household and tribe to leave Atbáshi, he hid himself, with 4000 cavalry, in a place of ambush. When Amir Timur reached that spot, being quite unaware of the trap [which Kamaruddin had] laid for him, he sent forward the whole of his force in pursuit of the enemy.

There stayed behind, however, of the army, 5000 cavalry and several brave generals, such as Amir Muayad, Khitái Bahádur, Shaikh Ali Bahádur and Ak Timur. Khitái Bahádur and Shaikh Ali Bahádur discussed how the enemy could best be destroyed. They determined to display the utmost bravery and audacity, and thereupon set out in pursuit of the foe, so that finally there did not remain more than 200 men with Amir Timur.

Kamaruddin, now seizing his opportunity, rushed out of his ambuscade with his 4000 cavalry, sword in hand, bent on avenging himself on Amir Timur. But Timur recalling to mind the words of the Korán: “How many small armies have overcome great hosts by the help of God!” was in no way disturbed or alarmed, but encouraged his men and opened his heart to them, saying: “Victory is from the Giver of all good gifts: not from the multitude of soldiers is it to be obtained. Your sole duty is to acquit yourselves like men; for should you show even the smallest sign of cowardice or hesitation we are lost.”

No sooner had he said these words than he turned his charger against the enemy, and full of trust in god, entered the fray. [Verses.] …

After the fight was over, Timur avowed that it was only by the aid of Heaven that such a mere handful of men could have overcome a force of four thousand cavalry, bent on vengeance… [Verses and rhetoric.] …

One day after this event, he fell asleep, and there appeared to him, in a dream, Shaikh Burhán-ud-Din Kilij (upon whom be the mercy of God). Amir Timur advanced towards him with great reverence, and asked him to pray to God for the recovery of his son Jahángir, whom he had left on the bed of sickness at Samarkand. The Shaikh answered, “God be with you”; but of his son he said nothing. When Timur awoke from his dream, he felt convinced that his wishes concerning his son were not fulfilled, and was so distressed about Jahángir's safety that he despatched Bu Kutlugh, his private secretary, with a letter (from Sang), that he might obtain correct news of his son. As soon as his secretary had started, he had another disturbing dream about Jahángir, and became more anxious than ever, saying to his courtiers: “I sadly fear I am for ever separated from my son; do not hide the truth from me any longer.” But they, going down on their knees, took a solemn oath, saying: “Thy servants have absolutely no news of this matter, and have heard nothing of your son's condition.”

Departing thence, they again met with Kamaruddin at Sang Zighaj; a fight took place, and they again put him to flight. Amir Uch Kará followed close after him, and when [the pursuers] had gone a little way, Kamaruddin, being surrounded by the Amir's soldiers, turned round with eight of his followers. His horse was killed under him by an arrow, and he himself only just managed to escape on foot, covered with wounds. In the same fight Pulád received an arrow wound in the hand; by chance, also, a fire broke out, and the efforts which Pulád made to extinguish it, so increased the inflammation of his wound that he died.

AMIR TIMUR having left Atákum, crossed the Sihun and arrived at his capital, Samarkand, where he found

When Amir Timur heard these wailings he could no longer doubt but that his forebodings had been correct. The death of his son, which he now learned, caused the whole world for him to become black; his cheeks were continually wet with tears, and life became almost unbearable to him. The kingdom, which should have been overjoyed at the return of its mighty monarch, was become, instead, a place of desolation and mourning. The whole army, clothed in black and grey, sat down in mourning. The generals put dust upon their heads, and their eyes were filled with the blood of their hearts.

Though the Emperor was greatly overcome by grief at the loss of his son, his noble intelligence fully realised that this world is but transitory, and that every being must inevitably perish at some time—that we must “Verily all return unto God.” These considerations brought healing to the wounds of his sorrow. He, moreover, instituted many pious works, and ordered alms to be distributed in the form of food to the poor and indigent. His son's body was carried to Kesh, where it was buried, and over the grave a beautiful building was raised.^48a The prince was twenty years of age when he died. He left behind him two sons, one called Mirza Muhammad Sultán, by his wife Khánzádah, and the other, Mirza Pir Muhammad, by his wife Bakhtimulk Aghá, daughter of Ilyás Yasuri. This second son was born forty days after his father's death, which happened in the year 777 of the Hajra [A.D. 1375-6], the year of the Crocodile (Lui) of the Tartar cycle.

When Prince Saifuddin^48b heard of this sad event, he became weary of life, and begged Amir Timur to allow him to retire to the Hijáz.

But the chief men among his nobles and princes came to him, and having done him obeisance, said: “The Almighty Creator and wise disposer of the affairs of the universe has appointed kings on the earth to protect the sons of men, and administer justice to them.”

If the desire of their noble sovereign was to please God, nothing could be more acceptable in the eyes of the Preserver of Mankind, than the administration of justice and care for his subjects, for the most perfect and wisest of all men (upon whom be the most excellent prayers) said that he preferred one hour of his life, which should be spent in the administration of justice, to sixty or seventy years spent in worship.

Amir Timur accepted favourably the counsels of his servants, feeling that it was purely out of affection for himself, that they had addressed these words to him, and he thereupon began again to turn his attention to the affairs of the State. He also reassembled his troops and prepared them for an expedition.

At this time, news arrived that Adilsháh Jaláir was wandering about the hills of Karájik, with a few other persons; whereupon Amir Timur despatched Barát Khwája Kukildásh and Ilchi Bughá, together with fifteen horsemen, in search of Adilsháh and his party. They set out from Samarkand in the night, and when they reached Otrár a few chosen men were despatched to the mountains to look for Adilsháh. They eventually found him in a place called Aksumá, when they seized him and put him to death, in accordance with the Yásák. Aksumá is a column [mil], built on the summit of the mountains of Karájik, to serve as a watchtower (didah báni) whence one may look out over the plains of Kipchák.^49a

Sár Bughá also, who having deviated from the high road of reason, had become rebellious and fled, now, after two years' absence, being led by the true guide of the intelligence, returned again to court. He was pardoned by the merciful monarch, and received the government of his own tribe and country.

Soon after this, Amir Timur saw fit to send his son Omar Shaikh against Kamaruddin, and with him he also sent Amir Ak Bughá, Khitái Bahádur and other Amirs, commanding them to do their utmost to sweep the enemy from the face of the earth. Thus intent on making a great effort, they set out with all possible speed. In the desert of Kurátu they came upon Kamar-uddin, and by the aid of the Almighty, their swords of emerald hue became ruby-coloured like pomegranates, with fighting, and the faces of their opponents grew amber-coloured with fear. Their charges were so fierce that at length the enemy had to fly, scattered in all directions. When Kamar-uddin had fled, the victorious army pillaged all his country and returned home laden with booty.

No sooner had these victorious troops returned from their attack on Jatah (or Moghulistán), than Amir Timur resolved to make yet another expedition into that country, that same year. He sent forward, as an advance party, Muhammad Beg, son of Musá (who, on account of his connection by marriage with Amir Timur, had a high opinion of himself), Amir Abbás and Ak Timur Bahádur. Marching, in obedience to orders, day and night, they came up with Kamaruddin at Bughám Issigh-Kul, and after a fierce fight, put him to flight. They then ravaged his country, and took his men prisoners. Amir Timur himself pursued Kamaruddin as far as Kuchkár.^50a

At this place news reached the Emperor's ears that Toktámish Oghlán,^50b having lost his faith in Urus Khán, had come in hopes [of good treatment] to pay his respects at court. The Emperor at once commanded the Amir Tumán, Timur Uzbeg, to go and meet Toktámish with all possible honour and ceremony, and accompany him back. Amir Timur returned from the direction of Inaghu and alighted at Uzkand.^50c Thence he reached Samarkand in safety.

On his arrival at the capital, Toktámish Oghlán was brought before him by Timur Uzbeg and others of the nobles. Amir Timur received him with affection, and with all the honour due to a prince, none of the prescribed ceremonies being neglected; for after he had given a great feast in Toktámish Oghlán's honour, he loaded him and his retinue with magnificent presents, such as gold and jewels, robes of honour and girdles; arms, armour, horses, camels, tents, cymbals (kus), chargers, slaves, standards, and such like things; and as a proof of the extent of the love he bore him, the Emperor paid him the honour of calling him his son.

I HAVE heard from certain Moghuls that, towards the end of his life, Kamaruddin was afflicted with dropsy.^50d While he was in this state news came, one day, that Amir Timur was approaching with his army; but Kamaruddin was too weak to mount his horse or to hold the bridle. So his people carried him into the depths of the jungle, and left him there with two of his concubines, and provisions for a few days. The rest then fled. After the invading army had withdrawn, and the scattered inhabitants had returned, they sought for Kamaruddin in the jungle, but not a trace of him or of his attendants, either dead or alive, could be found. Thus were the people released from his oppression.^51a After his disappearance Amir Timur's mind was set at rest with regard to Moghulistán, and he made no sixth invasion of that country. In fine, the Moghuls enjoyed peace and rest.

IT has been mentioned above, that Tughluk Timur Khán's youngest son was Khizir Khwája Khán, and that while he was yet at his mother's breast, he had been saved from the cruelty and enmity of Kamaruddin by Mir Ághá, the mother of Amir Khudáidád. When Khizir Khwája Khán attained the age of twelve years, [his friends] still fearing Amir Kamaruddin, removed him from Káshghar. Amir Khudáidád wished him to be accompanied by a few trustworthy men, but Mir Ághá opposed this plan, saying: “Do not send any of your own servants, for when the boy becomes Khán, base born people [such as they] will become influential, and then they will prove enemies to yourself and your children. They will imagine that the people do not pay them sufficient respect, but say among themselves, ‘These are only servants.’ For this reason rather send others than your own retainers—send strangers.” So twelve men were sent with him, of whom every one eventually became an Amir, and many of their descendants are alive now. Among their number was Arjirák, from whom are descended the Amirs of Itárji; Tájri of Khwárizm, from whom are sprung the Amirs of Kunji; while another was of the tribe of Chálish Siádi [or Sayyádi]; and his sons also became Amirs, with the style [lakab] of Kushji, but they are also called Kukildásh.^52a These persons all attained the rank of Amir, as did also the remainder of the twelve.

In short, they conducted Khizir Khwája Khán up to the hills, which lie between Badakhshán and Káshghar. But as the spies of Kamaruddin got news of his hiding-place, he was obliged to abandon it and take flight to the hills of Khotan. Then again fearing discovery, he passed on from this place to Sárigh Uighur,^52b Jurján,^52c and Lob Katak,^52d in which regions he remained twelve years. On the death of Kamaruddin, search was made for Khizir Khwája Khán, and Amir Khudáidád sent some people to fetch him from where he was in hiding. As soon as he was brought in, Khudáidád called the people together and raised him to the Khánship. Thus did the splendour of the Khán come to illumine the sovereignty of the Moghuls, so that the affairs of Moghulistán prospered.

The Khán then concluded a peace with Amir Timur, who formed an alliance with him by marrying Tavakkul Khánim,^52e a maiden from the royal haram. During his reign the Khán undertook a holy war [ghazát] against Khitái. He, in person, attacked and conquered Karákhoja and Turfán, two very important towns, situated at the border of Khitái, and forced their inhabitants to become Musulmáns, so that at the present time it is called “Dár al Islám”^52f As a seat of the Moghul Khákáns this country stands next in importance to Káshghar. It is moreover related that, in that campaign, this country was divided up in the manner ordained by the Holy Shariat. And there fell to the lot of the Khán, one piece of satin and one grey cow.^52g The Khán's object in doing this, was the glorification of the realm of Islám.

It is related in the Zafar-Náma, that as soon as Amir Timur had satisfied his lust for conquest in the north, south and west, he prepared an expedition against the countries lying to the east, especially against Khitái, which is the most important of them; and a long description is given of the [projected] expedition, the substance of which is that he mustered an army of eight hundred thousand men, supplying them with provender sufficient for seven years—as was the custom in the armies of Irák and Rum.^53a As the country lying between Khitái and Mávará-un-Nahr was but little cultivated and thinly populated, he ordered each man to take, in addition to other supplies, two milch-kine and ten milch goats, telling them that when their supplies should be exhausted, they were to milk these animals; and when, in turn, the milk should come to an end, they were to convert the animals themselves into provisions.

Having completed these preparations, Amir Timur set out from Samarkand, and for that winter took up his quarters [kishlák] in Turkistán. While there, he sent to ask Khizir Khwája Khán if it would be possible to cultivate the ground [in Moghulistán], in order to furnish supplies for the army.

I have frequently heard my father (upon whom rest the mercy of God) relate that in the beginning of the spring the new kimiz^53b had come in, and on that day, according to an ancient Moghul custom, a great feast had been prepared. As Amir Khudáidád was on the point of offering a cup of kimiz to the Khán, one of the chief nobles announced the arrival of an ambassador from Amir Timur, and stated the purport of his mission. [The noble] added: “It is much to be regretted that we have not power to resist him, and that we should be compelled to pay him tribute.” At these reflections, the cup of kimiz fell from the hands of the Khán, whereupon Amir Khudáidád said: “You must now drink of the cup of tranquillity (ráhat), in conformity with this couplet:

To grieve over what has not yet come to pass is taking sorrow in antici-
pation.
'Tis better that I should defer to the morrow the things of to-morrow.”

Then he added: “It has been said that if an apple be thrown up to the sky, God has had time to bestow a hundred blessings before it descends again. Ere another year be passed, how many thousand favours may He not confer! This consideration ought to bring you comfort.”

Scarcely had he done speaking, when they saw advancing rapidly from the shore of Lake Kariás, a man mounted on a black horse, and clothed in white robes. He rode on as far as the executioner's tent, where it is customary to dismount. This man, however, rode on without stopping, right past the station of the guards who were sitting in a line. The chamberlains [yasávul]^54a ran up from every side to try and stop him in his course, but he did not slacken his speed till he came up to where the Khán was standing. Then he called out in a loud voice: “Amir Timur is no more, he has died at Otrár!” Having uttered these words he again rode off at full speed. Many horsemen were sent after him, but none could overtake him; and no other intimation of the news was received. However, after an interval of forty-five days, information came that Amir Timur had died at Otrár; so there no longer remained any doubt about the matter, and the Khán was relieved of all anxiety and distress.

The Khán was born before the year 770 of the Hajra, and the above recorded events took place in 807^54b of the Hajra. But it is not known how long the Khán survived Amir Timur—God knows best.

When the Khán ascended the throne of the Khánate, the foundations of the State, which, under the usurpation of Kamaruddin and the ascendency of Amir Timur, had been much shaken, were once more strengthened and consolidated. Old customs and rights, which had fallen into disuse or oblivion, were revived, while the affairs of the kingdom and the business of the nobles were restored to order. Among other matters that received attention was the restoration to his rights of Amir Khudáidád.

For in the reign of Chingiz Khán there had been granted to the ancestors of Amir Khudáidád the following seven privileges [mansab]:^54c 1. Tabl (or the drum). 2. Alam (or the Standard), the former being called in Turki “nakára,” the latter “tumán tugh.” 3. Two of his servants might wear the “Kushun-tugh.” Kushun-tugh is synonymous with “chápár tugh.” 4. He might wear the Kur^54d in the councils of the Khán, though it is a custom among the Moghuls that no one but the Khán may carry his quiver in his hand. 5. Certain privileges in connection with the Khán's hunt.^55a 6. He was to be an Amir over all the Moghuls, and in the firmáns^55b his name was to be entered as “Sirdár of the Ulus of Moghuls.” 7. In the presence of the Khán, the other Amirs were to sit a bow's length further than he from the Khán.

Such were the seven privileges bestowed upon Urtubu by Chingiz Khán. When Amir Buláji had brought Tughluk Timur Khán from the land of Kipchák, and had set him on the throne of the Khánate, he, in return for his services, received in addition to the seven privileges above enumerated, two others, so that he enjoyed nine in all. The first of the new privileges was, that he should have the power of dismissing or appointing Amirs of Kushuns (that is, Amirs who had one thousand followers) without applying to, or consulting with, the Khán; and the second was as follows: Buláji and his descendants should be permitted to commit nine crimes without being tried. On committing the tenth offence, trial should be conducted under the following conditions:—The accused should be set upon a white two-year-old horse; under the hoofs of the horse, nine folds of white felt should be placed—as a token of respect—and he should in that position address the Khán, while the Khán should speak to him from an elevation. When the interrogatory and investigation had been conducted in this fashion, if the offence should be a mortal one, and the other nine crimes should also be proved against him, two Amirs should stand by and watch him while his veins were opened and all his blood drawn from his body. Thus he should perish. Then the two Amirs, wailing and lamenting, should carry his body out.^55c

These nine privileges were contained in a firmán issued under the seal of Tughluk Timur Khán, which I once saw myself. For it was handed down in our family, and ultimately came into the hands of my father (upon whom be the peace of God). It was however destroyed or lost, in the disturbed times of Sháhi Beg Khán.^56a It was written in the Moghul language and character, and bore the date and place of the year of the Hog, at Kunduz; which goes to prove that Tughluk Timur Khán's rule extended as far as Kunduz. No one alive now knows anything about the reign of that Khán, but I have copied into this history the account of it given in the Zafar-Náma.

Since Khizir Khwája Khán had been saved from the yawning abyss of Kamaruddin's violence, and had been placed upon the throne of the Kháns, by the aid of Amir Buláji's son, Amir Khudáidád, he rewarded the latter Amir by superadding three privileges to the nine existing ones; making the prerogatives of Amir Khudáidád twelve in number. Thus:

10. That on the occasion of festivals, when the Khán's chamberlains [yasávul] arranged the ranks, one of the chamberlains of Amir Khudáidád, taking part in the proceedings, should stand on the right hand side, holding the Khán's cup: another on the left side, should hold the cup of Amir Khudáidád, and those two cups were to be exclusively reserved for the Khán and Amir Khudáidád.

11. That he should set his seal on all firmáns that might be issued, but that the Khán's seal should be set above his.

12. [No 12th mansab is mentioned in any of the texts].

Such were the twelve prerogatives [mansab] for which a firmán was granted to Amir Khudáidád, after whose death they descended to his son Amir Muhammad Sháh Kurkán. When this latter died, they devolved on Amir Sayyid Ali Kurkán, the son of Muhammad Sháh's brother, and after Sayyid Ali to Muhammad Haidar Mirzá Kurkán his son, and after him to his son Muhammad Husain Mirzá Kurkán, father of the present writer Muhammad Haidar, known familiarly as Mirzá Haidar.

After the martyrdom of my father, my uncle, Sayyid Muhammad Mirzá, attached himself to Sultán Ash-Shahid-Sultán Said Khán; the Khán Said Shahid confirmed all these privileges to my uncle. The particulars of the matter are recorded in the Second Part of this Tarikh-i-Rashidi. These privileges (that is to say, the first [seven] of them) were in force from before the year 625 of the Hajra, which is the date of Chingiz Khán,^56b down to the death of the Khán and the murder of my uncle, the date of which was the 1st of Moharram, 940 of the Hajra.^57a When this calamity took place and the Khánship came to Sultán Rashid, the customs of our forefathers were exchanged for other, and very different, practices.

Praise be to the gracious Creator, in that when my turn arrived to be created, he made me a free man and independent of the Kháns, for the great “mansab” He has granted me, is but an atom of those boundless favours which are the salvation of this world and the next. In the same way that thou hast made me materially free, make me also spiritually independent and prosperous!

THIS Muhammad Khán was the son of Khizir Khwája Khán, who had, besides Muhammad Khán, other sons; among these were Sham-i-Jahán Khán and Nakhsh-i-Jahán Khán.^57b After Isán Bughá Khán, excepting Tughluk Timur Khán, there was no one left in the country of the Moghuls who was of the first rank of Khákáns. This fact I have already mentioned. After the death of Tughluk Timur Khán, Amir Kamaruddin murdered all Tughluk's sons, so that there was no one left but Khizir Khwája Khán. (This I have also already stated.) This last Khán left many sons and grandsons; the details of the lives of all of them have not, however, been preserved in the Moghul traditions. In fine, I have recounted what I considered worthy of belief regarding the history of the ancestors of the Khákáns. But I have not been able to learn any details concerning their uncles and cousins. Consequently I have only mentioned the sons of Khizir Khwája Khán, as for example, Muhammad Khán: for in him the race of Moghul Khákáns came to an end.

Muhammad Khán was a wealthy prince and a good Musulmán. He persisted in following the road of justice and equity, and was so unremitting in his exertions, that during his blessed reign most of the tribes of the Moghuls became Musulmáns.

It is well known what severe measures he had recourse to, in bringing the Moghuls to be believers in Islám. If, for instance, a Moghul did not wear a turban [Dastár], a horseshoe nail was driven into his head: and treatment of this kind was common. (May God recompense him with good.)

In the Moghul records it is stated that Amir Khudáidád himself raised six Kháns to the Khánate, and this Muhammad Khán was one of the number.

Muhammad Khán built a Rabát on the northern side of the defile of Chádir Kul. In the construction of this building he employed stones of great size, the like of which are only to be seen in the temples [Imárát] of Kashmir. The Rabát contains an entrance hall 20 gaz^58a in height. When you enter by the main door, you turn to the right hand along a passage which measures 30 gaz. You then come to a dome which is about 20 gaz, and beautifully proportioned. There is a passage round the dome, and in the sides of it; and in the passage itself are beautiful cells. On the western side there is also a mosque 15 gaz in height, which has more than twenty doors. The whole building is of stone, and over the doors there are huge solid blocks of stone, which I thought very wonderful, before I had seen the temples in Kashmir.^58b

In the time of Muhammad Khán, the learned Mirzá Ulugh Beg was reigning in Mávará-un-Nahr by the appointment of his father, Mirzá Sháh Rukh; he was the founder of the famous observatory and the author of the astronomical tables called Zij Kurkán. Mirzá Sháh Rukh was king of Khorásán and Irák. The dates of his birth and death are not known, but if we refer to other dates, we find that he must have died before 860 of the Hajra. (But God knows best.)^59a

MUHAMMAD KHÁN, also, had several sons, two of whom were Shir Muhammad Khán and Shir Ali Oghlán. Shir Muhammad Khán succeeded his father, and as long as he governed, the people were peaceful and prosperous. During his reign, his brother Shir Ali Oghlán died at the age of eighteen, and thus never attained to the rank of Khán. He, however, left one son, Vais Khán by name, between whom and Shir Muhammad Khán there arose great disputes, as will be related below. Shir Muhammad Khán, who was also a contemporary of Mirzá Sháh Rukh, enjoyed a longer reign than Muhammad Khán.

SULTÁN VAIS KHÁN was the son of Shir Ali Khán;^60a after the death of his father, he was in the service of his uncle, Shir Muhammad Khán. After a time he began to find this condition irksome, and therefore fled from the court, and took to the life of a robber [Kazáki]. Many distinguished Moghul youths volunteered to follow him. Among this number was my grandfather Mir Sayyid Ali. I am the grandson of Vais Khán, on my mother's side. Amir Sayyid Ali is my paternal grandfather,^61a and this Amir Sayyid Ali was the son of Sayyid Ahmad Mirzá, son of Amir Khudáidád. I think it is fitting in this place to give the history of Amir Sayyid Ali.

As has been already mentioned, Amir Khudáidád lived in Moghul-istán in the service of the Kháns. His native country was Káshghar, which had been given as a fief [akta'a] to his ancestors, by Chingiz Khán. This matter however will be referred to in the Second Part, when I speak of the country of Káshghar.

Amir Sayyid Ahmad^61b had an impediment in his speech, and only those who were accustomed to hear him speak, could understand him. He was also hard of hearing, so that it was necessary to speak very loudly to him in order to make him understand. His father sent him to Káshghar as governor, which position he retained for a considerable time, till at length Khwája Sharif, one of the nobles of Káshghar, became very powerful and all looked to him for help and advice. Khwája Sharif was a noble-minded man, but he was displeased with Sayyid Ahmad Mirzá, so he handed over the government to Mirzá Ulugh Beg, while Amir Sayyid Ahmad fled from Káshghar to his father, and soon afterwards died.

Amir Ali, the son of Sayyid Ahmad Mirzá, lived with his grandfather, Amir Khudáidád, who loved him better than all his other children; for he was without rival in stature and strength as well as in courage, talent and understanding. He used to be called Sayyid Ali Alif.^61c

When Amir Sayyid Ali took the daughter of Isán Bughá Khán for his son Muhammad Haidar Mirzá (as will be related below), he marked his joy by striking a nail into a wall, which I have myself seen. If one man stand upright, and a second, placing his feet on the first, also stand upright and stretch out his hand, he will not reach the nail by about an ell [gaz].

On this account^61d Amir Khudáidád loved Amir Sayyid Ali better than all his children.

At this time a certain Ahmad Mirzá, one of the Timuri Mirzás of the line of Mirzá Sháh Rukh, having fled [from his own country] had come [to Moghulistán]. He had [with him] a sister, for whom Amir Sayyid Ali conceived a great affection; so much so that Amir Khudáidád and others begged her to become Amir Sayyid Ali's wife. She, however, refused, saying: “I cannot stay in Moghulistán, but if he will accompany me to my own country, it can be arranged.” She then immediately set out for her own country, accompanied by Amir Sayyid Ali. When she arrived at Andiján, Mirzá Ulugh Beg despatched a man to kill Ahmad Mirzá, and himself married his sister, at the same time throwing Amir Sayyid Ali into prison at Samarkand, where he remained one year. Here he fell sick of dysentery, and when on the point of dying, Amir Ulugh Beg sent for the doctors, whose remedies, however, were all without effect. One day somebody brought some kumiz. The Mirzá implored the doctors, saying: “As the medicines have done me no good, I should much like to try a little kumiz, for which I have a great craving.” They at last agreed [to grant his request] as a desperate experiment, saying: “It will very likely give him strength.” They then gave him as much kumiz as he wanted, and from that moment he began to show signs of recovery. On the following day they gave him some more, and he became perfectly well.

About this time, Mirzá Ulugh Beg was going to wait on his noble father Mirzá Sháh Rukh. Amir Sayyid Ali being quite recovered, Mirzá Ulugh Beg ordered a horse and arms to be given him, that he might accompany him to Khorásán. His object was to show off Amir Sayyid Ali to the people of Khorásán, as if he would say: “This is the sort of booty we take in Moghul-istán.” One night when the Mirzá was in his tent, the torchbearers were passing by, and he saw Amir Sayyid Ali with his bow, which was fourteen spans long—longer than that of anybody else. The Mirzá thought to himself: “If this man wishes to aim his arrow at me, who will be able to prevent him?” He became very nervous, and immediately sent for Amir Sayyid Ali and said to him: “This journey into Khorásán must be very irksome and unpleasant to you. You can return to Samarkand: when I get back I will give you leave to go to Moghulistán; and you shall be the intermediary between myself and Shir Muhammad Khán, so that matters may be settled in a peaceable way.”

So he gave him leave to return, and sent a man to accompany him. He also wrote to the Governor of Samarkand, telling him to treat him with every mark of respect. But he sent a secret message to the governor telling him to keep Amir Sayyid Ali in prison.

When Amir Sayyid Ali arrived at Samarkand with his companion, he gathered from the behaviour of the latter that he was not going to be well treated. When they had entered the town, his companion placed him in a house, and himself went before the governor. No sooner was he gone than the Amir left the house, on foot, and proceeded to Táshkand. When the man returned to the house from visiting the governor, he found the Amir's horse, and arms, and servants, but the Amir himself had disappeared. They inquired after him from his servants, who replied that he had just departed on foot. They then searched carefully for the Amir, but could not find him.

Meanwhile the Amir had fallen in with some Kalandars on the road, and having dressed himself as one of them, arrived in safety at Táshkand. The Kalandars gave the Amir the name of Ashtar Abdál, and bestowed on him some of the provisions out of their wallets. Thus, in the guise of a Kalandar, he reached Taráz, which is another name for Yángi,^63a where he was recognised by the Shaikh of the “Shrine of the Companions of the Cave,” which is called in Moghulistán “Mamlakat Atá.”^63b The Shaikh sent his son Shádika with the Amir, and caused him to be conducted into Moghulistán and brought before Amir Khudáidád. This Shaikh Shádika became one of the Amir's intimates, and gained the title [lakab] of Vafádár [the Faithful]. There are descendants of his still alive, but they have not attained to any celebrity.

At the time when the Amir re-entered the service of his distinguished relation, Amir Khudáidád, Vais Khán had separated from his uncle Shir Muhammad Khán, and had taken to highway robbery. Amir Khudáidád said to Amir Sayyid Ali: “I think you had better go and join Vais Khán, for if you stay here you may come to some harm.” He then selected sixty young men and despatched them with Amir Sayyid Ali, to Vais Khán. The Amir served the Khán well, and obtained in return the Khán's sister, Uzun Sultán Khánim, in marriage.

Countless were the laudable actions which Amir Sayyid Ali performed whilst in the service of the Khán. They would, however, take too long to relate. I have mentioned a few of them in my account of Vais Khán.

WHEN Vais Khán, as has been related above, fled from his uncle Shir Muhammad Khán, a number of people attached themselves to him, and they took to plundering in, and on the confines of, the territory of Shir Muhammad Khán; especially in the neighbourhood of Lob Katak and Sárigh Uighur.

It is related that when Uzun Sultán Khánim was given in marriage to Amir Sayyid Ali, this latter, in order to procure food for the feast, went out hunting, and returned, having killed two stags [Gavazan], which were eaten at the banquet. From this, one can form some idea of the splendour of the marriage festivities.

But [Vais Khán] finding little scope for activity in that country, [left it and] went to Turkistán. At that Amir Shaikh Nuruddin, son of Sár Bughá Kipchák, one of Amir Timur's greatest generals, was Governor of Turkistán. With him [the Khán] had some intercourse, and since he was at enmity with Shir Muhammad Khán, he gave his daughter Daulat Sultán Sakanj,^64a in marriage to Vais Khán. He also gave the Khán much assistance in his attacks on Shir Muhammad Khán, and for a long time there was continual conflict between Vais Khán and his uncle, the latter being as a rule, victorious. One of these encounters took place at a spot in Moghulistán called Karang Káingligh. Vais Khán, after a long and rapid march, surprised Shir Muhammad Khán in his camp at midnight. [The assailants] were four hundred strong. When the alarm was raised, Shir Muhammad Khán threw himself into a ditch, while Vais Khán, surrounding the camp, searched till dawn for Shir Muhammad Khán, slaying all whom he met. Yet, notwithstanding their search and the violence they used towards the people in the camp, no trace of Shir Muhammad Khán was to be found. When day broke they fled. Then Shir Muhammad Khán came out of the ditch, and his men having again collected round him, he set out in pursuit of Vais Khán, who only saved himself after a hundred narrow escapes. In fine, this hostility continued between them until the natural death of Shir Muhammad Khán, whereupon Vais Khán succeeded to the Khánate.

WHEN his turn came, Vais Khán showed himself to be religiously inclined; he was moreover distinguished among his race for his bravery. Since he had forbidden the Moghuls to attack Musul-máns, he made war against the infidel Kálmáks; and though he was frequently defeated by them, he persisted in hostilities against them, not wishing to relinquish the holy war [jahád]. He was twice taken prisoner by them. The first occasion was in a battle at a place called Ming Lák, where the Khán, having been seized, was led before Isán Táishi. This latter thought to himself: “If he is really a descendant of Chingiz Khán, he will not do me obeisance, but will look upon me as an inferior.” When the Khán was brought in, he dismounted (for he was on horseback) and [Isán Táishi] advanced towards him with great respect [Sar-Zadah].^65a But the Khán turned away his face and did not raise his hands. Isán Táishi was then convinced, and treating the Khán with much honour, set him at liberty. The Khán, on being asked afterwards why he had not done obeisance [to Isán Táishi] replied: “If Isán Táishi had treated me in a lordly manner, I should, out of fear for my life, have approached him with reverence. But since he came towards me with bowed head, it occurred to me that the hour of my martyrdom had arrived; and it is not fitting for a Musulmán to do homage to an infidel, or to countenance his actions, therefore I did not salute him.” It was the Khán's faithful observance of his religion that saved him from the abyss.

On another occasion, he fought a battle with this same Isán Táishi at a spot called Kabáka, on the confines of Moghulistán. Here, too, he suffered defeat. His horse being shot under him by an arrow, the Khán was obliged to continue on foot. He was on the point of being captured, when Amir Sayyid Ali, dismounting from his horse, gave it to the Khán, while he threw himself on his face on the ground. The infidels, thinking him dead, shot an arrow at his head. When they came near enough, the Amir contrived to lay hold of one of them (who happened to be a man of some distinction), and lifting him up by his coat, turned him from side to side as a shield against the arrows, running all the while by the side of the Khán's bridle, so that it was impossible to shoot an arrow at the Amir. In this way he continued fighting and carrying the man by his clothes for a whole farsákh, till they came to the River Ailah. He then threw the Kálmák into the water, and seizing the bridle of the Khán's horse, entered the stream, which came up to his chest. Several men were drowned. The Khán's horse began to swim, while the Amir held up its head, and thus safely conducted the Khán, mounted and armed, across the river. Many men were drowned on that day.

It is related that the Khán had with him, on that occasion, two cousins, Hasan Sultán, who wore red armour, and Lukmán Sultán, who wore blue [kabud]. They were both drowned on entering the stream. Amir Sayyid Ali, keeping hold of the Khán's bridle with one hand, did his best to save these two men with the other, but could not reach them. The Khán declared he could distinguish their red and blue jackets deep down in the water. Vais Khán gave Amir Sayyid Ali five presents^66a —one for each [of the following] acts. (I.) He had given his horse to the Khán and had himself remained on foot. (II.) He had seized the Kálmák. (III.) He had used him as a shield for a whole farsákh.^66b (IV.) He had brought the Khán fully armed and mounted across the River Ailah.^66c (V.) Although he had hold of the Khán, he twice stretched out his hand to save the drowning men. The Khán then added: “I know that the Amir has such strength that if one of my cousins had been able to seize him by the hand, the Amir would have saved him too, and brought him across the water.” In consideration of these five actions, he gave the Amir five Aimáks as a reward. 1. Turkát. 2. Hibat Shirá Sut. 3. Uzbeg, a tribe of Khotan. 4. Darugha, also a tribe of Khotan. 5. Kukanit, also a tribe of Khotan.^67a

Sultán Vais Khán had another combat with Isán Táishi, in the vicinity of Turfán, and was again defeated and taken prisoner. Isán Táishi said [to Vais Khán, on his being brought before him]: “This time I will only set you free, on your giving me your sister Makhtum Khánim, as a ransom.” There being no help for it, Makhtum Khánim was given to him, and the Khán was set at liberty. It is commonly reported that the Khán had sixty-one engagements with the Kálmáks: once only was he victorious; on every other occasion he was put to rout. (But God alone knows the truth.) I have frequently heard from Mauláná Khwája Ahmad that the Khán was a very powerful man, and that he used, every year, to go hunting wild camels in the country round Turfán, Tárim, Lob and Katak, which places I have spoken of in the Second Part. When he killed a camel he would skin it with his own hands, and take the wool to his mother Sultán Khátun; the Khátun would spin it and make it into shirts and breeches for him, which he wore with sumptuous robes outside. In Turfán water is very scarce, and it was the Khán himself who irrigated the land. He did not get his water from any stream, but having dug a deep well, drew from it a supply of water for irrigation. Khidmat Mauláná told me the following story of his uncles, who used to say: “We have often seen the Khán, during the hot season, with the help of his slaves, drawing water from the well in pitchers [kuzah], and pouring it himself over the land.” His agriculture was carried out on such a small scale, that the produce of it never attained the value of an ass's load; but this served him for a yearly supply of food.

He was a disciple of Mauláná Muhammad Kásháni, who was a disciple of Hazrat Khwája Hasan (may God perfume his tomb), and Khwája Hasan was a disciple of Hazrat Kutb-i-Masnad Arshád Khwája Baháuddin Nakhshband^67b (may God bless his spirit). Being a king did not prevent Vais Khán from passing his time in such studies [as theology]. During the reign of this prosperous Khán, Amir Khudáidád went on a pilgrimage to Mekka. Moghul records state that Amir Khudáidád raised six Kháns to the Khánship, “with his own hand.” They were as follows:—Khizir Khwája Khán (whom we have mentioned), Sham-i-Jahán Khán, Nakhsh-i-Jahán Khán, Muhammad Khán, Shir Muhammad Khán, and lastly Vais Khán.

I HAVE already told the history of Amir Khudáidád in part; but in this chapter I have to relate the rest of his deeds and his death. All the Moghul traditions are agreed as to the country over which he was Amir. I remember hearing from my father (upon whom be the grace of God) and from my uncles (may the pardon of God be on them) that their father had 24,000 families under him. He was Amir before the year 765 of the Hajra [A.D. 1363-4] and he made his journey to Mekka before the year 850 of the Hajra [A.D. 1446-7]. He was Amir for ninety years.^68a He exercised absolute power over the whole of Káshghar, Yárkand, Khotan, Aksu, Bái, and Kuchár. In spite, however, of all this, he was never a wealthy man, and during most of his life had not even a horse to ride. When travelling from place to place, the people of the country used to furnish him with a horse. And in the army it was just the same. He spent much of the revenue of his State in releasing and ransoming Musulmán prisoners. In those days the Moghuls were constantly attacking Turkistán, Shásh and Andiján, and carrying off Musulmáns as prisoners. The Amir would buy these prisoners from the Moghuls, and supply them with provisions and transport to enable them to return home. He used also to provide them with tents, in which they had room to kneel down and say their prayers. In the performance of good actions such as these, and pious works, did the Amir pass his life.

There are also many miracles attributed to him. One of them, that was related to me by Khidmat Mauláná Khwája Ahmad, I will quote here. Khwája Záhid of Káshghar was a great and pious man.^69a Amir Khudáidád sent a person from Moghulistán to beg for one of Khwája Záhid's handkerchiefs. The Khwája's wife, however, thought that it was not fitting to send the Khwája's handkerchief to a Moghul in Moghulistán, and that it would be a sin to do so. Therefore she sent one that was not the Khwája's. When it was brought to the Amir, he, with much praise-giving, wiped his face therewith. But the next moment he returned it to the messenger, saying: “If this is, in truth, the handkerchief of the Khwája, I have no need of it.” So the messenger returned and gave it back to the wife of the Khwája. At this she was much astounded and told the Khwája what had passed. Khwája Záhid reproved his wife, saying: “The Amir is one of ‘this sect;’^69b why did you act thus?” Thereupon the Khwája sent his own handkerchief. When the messenger delivered it over to the Amir, he, having wiped his face with it, said: “Verily this is the kerchief of the Khwája—and I have faith in the Khwája.” Many miracles, such as this, are recorded of the Amir.

At last when the Amir reached the age of ninety-seven, he was possessed of a very strong desire to make the pilgrimage to Mekka. But in spite of much entreaty, Vais Khán refused his consent to this step. The Amir secretly sent to Mirzá Ulugh Beg, saying: “If you will come, I will disable the Moghuls and deliver them into your hands.” Now, as Mirzá Ulugh Beg had suffered much annoyance from the Moghuls, and was continually engaged in repressing them, he immediately mounted his horse and set out [for Moghulistán]. When he reached a famous town in Moghul-istán called Chu,^69c the Amir having deserted his own troops, joined Mirzá Ulugh Beg; and, in consequence, the Moghuls were scattered in every direction. When the Amir met Mirzá Ulugh Beg, he said to him: “I committed this act because I could not obtain leave to go to Mekka: this was my excuse for coming over to you, but now I don't see fit to go.” They then left that place, the Mirzá treating the Amir with all possible honour and respect. When they reached Samarkand, Mirzá Ulugh Beg said to Amir Khudáidád: “There is no one who knows so much about the Turah^70a of Chingiz Khán as you do; I beg you to tell me all its regulations, as I have a great desire to know all about it.” The Amir replied: “We have completely discarded the infamous Turah of Chingiz Khán, and have adopted the Shariat [or Muhammadan Law]. If, however, Mirzá Ulugh Beg, in spite of his common sense and good judgment, approves the Turah of Chingiz Khán, I will teach it him, that he may adopt it and forsake the Shariat.” The Mirzá was much perturbed at these words, and did not learn the Turah.

In short, the Amir went to Mekka. When my father (God have mercy on him) went to Khorásán, as I have mentioned in the Second Part, he found there one of the generals of Sultán Husain Mirzá, named Sultan Ali Barlás, who was a very old man, being nearly one hundred years of age. He had been held in great honour by the Mirzá. My father questioned him concerning his ancestors and their times. He replied: “My father's name was Sháh Husain Barlás. He was one of the Moghul Barlás, and a distinguished Mir. Amir Khudáidád travelled with him from Moghulistán.” When my father heard this story, he became greatly interested and begged [the Barlás] to narrate the whole history. The latter began: “I was quite a boy when Mir Khudáidád undertook his pilgrimage to Mekka, and my father accompanied him, for he was in the service of the Amir. We fled from Moghulistán and wandered from town to town, till we set out upon the journey to visit the holy town of Mekka; when we had been a few days on our return journey, the Amir asked where Medina was; they told him that Medina lay in a different direction. At this the Amir was much distressed, and said: ‘I have come a great distance and suffered many privations; yet I have not made the tawáf [circuit] of the garden of the Prophet (may the peace and prayers of God be upon him); and it is a long journey home again.’

“He then gave all his servants and porters leave to return home with the caravan, sending with them many letters and messages for his children in Moghulistán. One of these letters has passed down from father to son into my possession, for it had always been carefully preserved in our family. In short, the Amir and his wife started for Medina, unencumbered, making an Arab go in front to guide them. My father sent me with him too, so I was of the Amir's party. After a long journey we arrived at Medina. The Amir made the tawáf of the garden of the Prophet (upon whom be the most excellent of prayers), and we passed the night in the house of a darvish. As night came on a great change manifested itself in the Amir. He called my father (i.e., Sháh Husain Barlás) and said to him: ‘Read me the chapter called Ya-sin;’ when my father came to the verse ‘Mislahum Balá,’ the Amir expired. We were all astounded at this occurrence. With the break of day, many of the nobles and people of Medina came to the house, asking: ‘Did not some one die here last night?’ and when we told them, they began to condole with us, and said: ‘We have this night seen the Prophet in our sleep, and he said to us: a guest has come to me to-night; he had made a very long journey to visit me, and he has died here during the night: bury him at the foot of the tomb of the Commander of the Faithful, Osmán.’ Then the Prophet drew a line with the end of his stick. As soon as we awoke, we went and found that a line had been drawn there. Happy the man who has been honoured with such a favour! The nobles of Medina buried the Amir at the feet of Osmán, with great honour. On the following night the wife of the Amir died also, and she was buried near where her husband had been laid.”

When Sultán Ali Barlás reached this point in his narrative, my father showed signs of great happiness; whereupon they questioned him as to the cause of his delight. My father replied: “This Amir Khudáidád was my grandfather.” Sultan Ali Barlás immediately got up and having embraced my father, said: “What I have told you is true. But no news of the death of the Amir ever reached Moghulistán, for on our return journey we settled down for some time in Irák, and then in Khorásán, and no one brought the news into Moghulistán. Thanks be to God that I have been able to give this news to you, and tell you what a noble death Amir Khudáidád died.”

Moghul tradition says that when Amir Khudáidád went to Mekka, his rank and titles were given, by Vais Khán, to the Amir's eldest son Mir Muhammad Sháh.

A SHORT time after the departure of Amir Khudáidád for Mekka, and the accession of Mir Muhammed Sháh to his father's rank and titles, Vais Khán's destiny was achieved. It came about in the following way. Sátuk Khán—one of those men upon whom Amir Timur had conferred the title of Khán—had been placed within four strong walls in the centre of the town. The place is called nowadays, in Samarkand, Hiyát-i-Khán [the walls of the Khán].^72a It is a large place and each division of it has a separate name. One of them is the Hauz-i-Bostan-i-Khán [the reservoir of the Khán's garden], which is one of the loveliest spots in Samarkand. In the days of Amir Timur, Yusurghátmish Khán^72b occupied this place; he, however, went away to Irák, and Sultán Mahmud Khán was appointed to the Hiyát-i-Khán in his stead. All the mandates [manshur] of Amir Timur bear the name of these two Kháns. So also the mandates of Mirzá Ulugh Beg bear the name of Sátuk Khán. Mirzá Ulugh Beg removed this Sátuk Khán from the Hiyát-i-Khán, and put some one else in his place, whom he also made Khán. He then sent Sátuk Khán into Moghulistán.

Vais Khán was in Issigh Kul, at Bakábulung.^72c I have heard Mauláná Khwája Ahmad say: “Khwája Abdul-Karim, my cousin, who was on very intimate terms with Vais Khán, used to relate that one Friday, just before the service, Vais Khán, who had performed his ablutions and had been shaved, came to me and asked: ‘Of what is my head, in its present state of cleanliness, worthy?’ I replied: ‘A jewelled crown.’ He said: ‘No, it is worthy of martyrdom.’ He had scarce uttered those words when a messenger came running up, to say that Sátuk Khán had arrived. Vais Khán immediately ordered them to sound the drums, while he himself began to put on his armour. The men who were near at hand quickly gathered round him, and they set out to meet the enemy. There was a stream running between them. When the two forces came in contact, the Khán himself charged forward, and wished to make his horse jump the stream, but the horse sank up to his head [in the mud] on the bank of the river. One of the servants of Mir Muhammad Sháh (Jákir by name) was such a good archer that he had not a single rival in the whole tribe, and for this reason the Khán had begged him of Mir Muhammad Sháh, for his own service. At the moment when the Khán fell from his horse, Jákir arrived on the spot, and mistaking the Khán for one of the enemy, aimed an arrow at the waist of the Khán, who on being struck rolled over on his back. Then Jákir recognised the Khán, and threw himself upon him.^72d When the news reached Sátuk Khán, he set out for the spot and, on his arrival, lay the Khán's head upon his breast, but the last breath of life had fled.”

The Moghul tribe were in the greatest disorder and, moreover, refused to obey Sátuk Khán; so that this latter could no longer remain in Moghulistán, but retired to Káshghar. Here he was overpowered by Karákul Ahmad Mirzá, who was a grandson of Amir Khudáidád. Soon after this, Mirzá Ulugh Beg sent an army to Káshghar. They seized Karákul Ahmad Mirzá and carried him off to Samarkand, where they cut him in half.

WHEN Mirzá Ulugh Beg heard of the approach of Irázán Bárin and Mirák Turkomán, he set out from Samarkand to meet them. On their arrival, he promised to supply them with provisions, and said: “Every household must come into the fort separately, where the members will have their names written down; each Moghul will receive an ass's load of provisions and then pass on.” Thus, hopeful of supplies, the people entered, but when they arrived at another door they were obliged to wait. Then their chiefs were killed and the rest of them were taken prisoners. Of all that entered the fort no one came out again to tell his story. Mirzá Ulugh Beg finished this business in a few days, and then despatched Yunus Khán, with a fifth of the spoil, to his father Mirzá Sháh Rukh. The Khán was kindly treated—more like a son than a prisoner. He was sent to Mauláná Sharaf-ud-Din Yazdi, that under him he might continue his studies. Many of the Mauláná's verses and Kassidas are dedicated to the Khán.

He spent altogether twelve years with the Mauláná, in the acquirement of science and letters. In fact, as long as the Mauláná lived he remained with him, but on the death of the latter, he quitted Yazd and made a journey through Irák, Arabia and Fárs. He was twenty-four when the Mauláná died, and he returned to Moghulistán, as pádisháh, at the age of forty-one, as will be mentioned below (if God will).

AFTER Mirák Turkomán and Irázán had carried off Yunus Khán to Samarkand, the whole of Moghulistán became subject to Isán Bughá Khán: all the Amirs offered to serve him, and thus the affairs of the Khán made great progress. Amir Sayyid Ali was untiring in his efforts to help the Khán, and as soon as the latter was firmly established on the throne, Amir Sayyid Ali begged him for permission to go to Káshghar. For, as I have already related, Khwája Sharif of Káshghar had given that place to Ulugh Beg Mirzá, and had expelled Mir Sayyid Ahmad, the father of Amir Sayyid Ali. Mirzá Ulugh Beg had, in the first place, appointed Amir Sultán Malik Duládái to be Governor of Káshghar, and after him Háji Muhammad Sháyistah, and after him Pir Muhammad Barlás.

Amir Sayyid Ali pointed out that it was a very fitting opportunity for him to go to Káshghar, and added: “I will see if I cannot restore to our family its old possession, of which for forty years it has been deprived. If I fail I shall merit your scorn.” The Khán thereupon gave his consent.

AT this time, the greater part of Mangálái Suyah was under the administration of the Dughláts. But Andiján and Káshghar had fallen to the government of Samarkand; while Issigh Kul, from the numerous vicissitudes to which it had been exposed, was sinking into disruption; the rest of the country, however, was still in the hands of the Dughlát Amirs. Just at this period the brothers and cousins of Amir Sayyid Ali were [governing] in Aksu, Kus and Bái. Amir Sayyid Ali came to Aksu, and leaving his family there, proceeded to Káshghar. When the Amir arrived in Aksu, a great conflict arose between himself and his two brothers, Mumin Mirzá and Sayyid Mahmud Mirzá. The Amir came off victor, in the end, after having killed many of his relations. About this matter there are many conflicting traditions. It appears, at all events, that he first got the upper hand of his relatives and then set out for Káshghar. He had 7000 men in his following. When he arrived within the territory of Káshghar, Háji Muhammad Sháyistah repaired to a place called Uch Barkhán, which is about three farsákhs distant from Káshghar, to oppose him, with 30,000 cavalry and infantry. But at the first attack of the Amir, Háji Muhammad Sháyistah took flight. The Moghuls started, in hot haste, after the Chaghatái, who in order to gain greater freedom in their flight, threw aside their armour before the enemy were able to overtake them, and uttered cries of distress. For this reason the battle was called “Salái Begum,” that is to say, “Mir-i-man biandázam,” or “I throw down my Mir.” This was one of the most famous battles ever fought in that country, and formed an epoch in its history. The people of Káshghar enabled the fugitives to creep into the citadel, while the Amir laid waste and pillaged all without, and then departed with the spoil.

The following year, when the corn was ripe, the Amir returned, and no one dared to leave the city. Háji Muhammad Sháyistah fortified himself in the citadel, while the Amir ravaged the whole country round. He laid siege to, and captured, one of the neighbouring fortresses, called Aláku, and again retired.

Then Khwája Sharif went to Samarkand to implore the assistance of Mirzá Ulugh Beg. While he was there, the Mirzá one day asked him: “Are there any donkeys in Káshghar?” Khwája Sharif replied: “Since the Chaghatái have come, there are a great number of donkeys.” Khwája Sharif took Pir Muhammad Barlás with him to Káshghar, while Mirzá Ulugh Beg withdrew Háji Muhammad Sháyistah to Samarkand. When Pir Muhammad Barlás arrived in Káshghar, the people gave him the surname [lakab] of Bangi, but they derived no benefits from him,^76a and Khwája Sharif began to despair of the Chaghatái.

When the Amir advanced against Káshghar for the third year in succession, the people of that country addressed a complaint to Khwája Sharif, saying: “We have lost the crops of two successive years; if we lose this year's crop too, there will be a famine in our country.”

On the Amir's arrival in Káshghar, the people of that town, having bound Pir Muhammad Barlás, gave him up to the Amir.^76b The Amir thereupon divested Pir Muhammad Barlás of his mantle of life, and entered the town of Káshghar, where he administered justice to the people. He governed the country during twenty-four years; and under him the State was so prosperous and happy, that he is talked of to this day. During all this time, the Amir paid so much attention to agriculture and the breeding of cattle and sheep, that when he died, leaving three sons and two daughters, one of his sons, Muhammad Haidar Mirzá, my grandfather, received as his share 180,000 sheep.

I once heard from Khwája Fakhruddin, a merchant of noble birth and pleasant of speech, that the Amir occupied himself with hunting during three months every winter. No one but soldiers were allowed to take part in the royal hunt. But as many soldiers as the Amir was able to provide for, used to join in the party, and during those three months, each one was supplied with meat and flour, which was distributed to them at the different halting-places [manzil]. On some days as many as 5000 sheep were given out, together with a proportionate amount of flour and barley and hay. Some years, 3000 persons were in attendance on the Amir, and each one was given his provisions. The inhabitants of the different villages were always anxious for the Amir to come to stay in their village, and the hunting party, on its arrival, would make them participate in their own store of good things. Fakhruddin used to relate that on one occasion, when they had alighted in our village, which is Artuch,^77a the Amir's master of the hunt [Mir-shikár] having brought some flour, gave it to a poor woman to bake, promising her, as a wage for her work, one of the six loaves, which were to be made from the flour he had supplied her with; but when the woman brought the loaves, he refused to give her one of them, saying: “I supplied the flour and the wood and the salt; what have you deserved of me?” At that moment the Amir happened to be passing by on horseback. He stopped and asked the woman what her trouble was: the woman laid her complaint before the Amir, who then questioned the master of the hunt. As this latter acknowledged the truth of the poor woman's story, the Amir said to him: “Why did you not bake your own bread, instead of troubling this woman?” The Amir then sent to a blacksmith's-shop for some pincers, and caused all the wretched man's teeth to be drawn from his head. I have repeated this tale as a proof of the Amir's justice. There are still existing in Káshghar, many sacred edifices and charitable institutions, which were founded by the Amir. During the twenty-four years of his government, many important events occurred, which shall hereafter be related in detail.

WHEN Yunus Khán left the country, the whole tribe submitted to Isán Bughá Khán, and for a few years the country enjoyed repose. The Khán, however, by reason of his youth, was but lightly esteemed by his Amirs. One of the Amirs, a certain Timur of the Uighur tribe of Turfán, had enjoyed the special favour of the young Khán; the other Amirs being annoyed at his elevation, and at the small degree of attention they themselves received, could no longer contain their wrath, and one day, in the presence of the Khán, seized the unfortunate man and cut him in pieces. After this there was a division among the Amirs, and the Khán, much alarmed at what had taken place, fled.

When this news reached Amir Sayyid Ali in Káshghar, he at once set out for Moghulistán. He found the Khán at Ak Kabás, and, accompanied by a few men, carried him off to Aksu, of which town he made him governor.

Meanwhile the Moghul Amirs were acting each in his own way. Mir Muhammad Sháh had taken up his abode in Atbáshi, but after some correspondence and promises of friendship, between himself and his nephew Amir Sayyid Ali, he joined the Khán in Aksu; he was beloved and esteemed to the end of his life.

Another was Mir Karim Bardi, who was also a Dughlát. He built a fort on the frontier of Moghulistán, on the side of Andiján and Farghána. It stood on the summit of a hillock at a place called Alábughá, and its ruins are still to be seen. He spent his time in ravaging and plundering Andiján and the Musulmáns.

Mir Hakk Bardi Begjik went to dwell in a place called Kui Sui, which is in Issigh Kul. Here he built a fort, and put his wives and family on the island in Issigh Kul,^78a that they might be safe from the attacks of the Kálmáks. Having done this, he went forth to lay waste Turkistán and Sairám. The Amirs of Jarás and of the tribe of Bárin went to join Amásánji Táishi, son of Isán Táishi, who was [chief] in the land of the Kálmáks,^79a while Káluji and Balgháji and several families joined Abulkhair Khán^79b in Turkistán. The Amirs of Kunji and several others wandered, in confusion and disorder, over the desert plains of Moghulistán.

But when Isán Bughá Khán had become firmly established in Aksu, first of all Mir Muhammad Sháh came to him [and submitted], and after that, others returned to him in numbers. The Khán, too, repenting of his former deeds, began to treat his people with great kindness. As soon as he had regained complete authority, he made a simultaneous attack upon Sairám, Turkistán and Táshkand, and having devastated these countries, returned home. This expedition took place before the year 855 of the Hajra [1451]. A second time also, he made a similar foray into this country. At that time Sultán Abu Sáid Mirzá was pádisháh of Mávará-un-Nahr. He pursued the Khán and overtook him in Yángi,^79c which in books of history is called Taráz. The Moghuls fled without offering battle, and Sultán Abu Said Mirzá returned to his own country [Mávará-un-Nahr]; but when he had taken Khorásán, he repaired to that country.^81a Isán Bughá Khán went to Andiján, where Mirzá Ali Kuchuk, having been put in command by Mirzá Sultán Abu Said, had fortified the citadel. The Khán had troops enough to enable him to surround the citadel with a triple line of men. He ran mines in every direction. The outer fort was taken…^81b Finally peace was concluded, and many complimentary presents given [pishkash]. The Khán having taken possession of the whole district of Andiján, departed. There are to this day in Káshghar, descendants of the men who were made prisoners in this war, and they are Moghuls.^81c

When Sultán Abu Said Mirzá heard this news, he was at a loss to know how he could put a check on Isán Bughá Khán. For if he advanced into Moghulistán, the Khán would withdraw to the farthest extremities of the country, whither it would be impossible for the army of Samarkand to follow him, and when the army should retreat the Khán would follow after it.^81d Again it was out of the question to be always sending people to oppose him; for Isán Bughá's strength and numbers generally proved obstacles to the Amirs who were sent.

All this time Mirzá Sultán Abu Said was intent upon an expedition against Irák, but on account of the trouble and annoyance caused him by Isán Bughá Khán, he was not able to carry out his plan of marching into Irák. So he sent to summon Yunus Khán, the elder brother of Isán Bughá Khán, from Irák, where, as has been already mentioned, Yunus was living at that time; he then despatched Yunus Khán against Isán Bughá Khán, in order that while the two brothers were engaged in fighting one another, his own country might enjoy a little peace. The Moghul Amirs who had separated from [Isán Bughá] Khán and all those who, having built castles, would not yield obedience to him, the Khán did not oppose in their proceedings, in the hope that they would again return to [their allegiance to] him.

At that time Abulkhair Khán exercised full power in the Dasht-i-Kipchák. He had been at war with the Sultáns of the race of Juji; while Jáni Beg Khán and Karái Khán fled before him into Moghulistán. Isán Bughá Khán received them with great honour, and delivered over to them Kuzi Báshi,^82a which is near Chu, on the western limit of Moghulistán, where they dwelt in peace and content. On the death of Abulkhair Khán the Ulus of the Uzbegs fell into confusion, and constant strife arose among them. Most of them joined the party of Karái Khán and Jáni Beg Khán. They numbered about 200,000 persons, and received the name of Uzbeg-Kazák.^82b The Kazák Sultáns began to reign in the year 870 [1465-66] (but God knows best), and they continued to enjoy absolute power in the greater part of Uzbegistán, till the year 940 [1533-34 A.D.]. Karái Khán was succeeded by Baranduk Khán, who was in turn succeeded by Kásim Khán, the son of Jáni Beg Khán. Kásim Khán subdued the whole of the Dasht-i-Kipchák. His army numbered more than a million [a thousand thousand] men. Excepting Juji Khán, there had never reigned a greater Khán than he in that country. He was succeeded by his son Mimásh Khán, who was succeeded by his brother Táhir Khán. During the rule of this Táhir Khán, the Kazáks began to diminish; after him his brother Birilásh reigned. During his rule there were only 20,000 Kazáks left. In 940 he died, and the Kazáks disappeared entirely. From the days of Isán Bughá Khán to the time of Rashid Khán,^82c friendly relations generally existed between the Moghuls and the Kazáks. But Rashid Sultán upset this state of affairs, as will be related (God willing) in the account I shall give of Rashid Khán.

SULTÁN ABU SAID MIRZÁ, son of Sultán Muhammad Mirzá, son of Miránsháh Mirzá, son of Amir Timur, got the upper hand of his cousins and took Samarkand from Abdullah Mirzá of Shiráz. After the death of Mirzá Bábar Kalandar,^83a son of Mirzá Báisanghar, son of Mirzá Sháh Rukh, son of Amir Timur, there was no pádisháh in Khorásán. So [Sultán Abu Said Mirzá] took possession of Khorásán; his heart was set upon appropriating for himself Irák also, but, as has been mentioned, the opposition of Isán Bughá Khán prevented him from absenting himself upon so long an expedition. He therefore sent to fetch Yunus Khán, the elder brother of Isán Bughá Khán, from Irák (the reason of whose going to Irák has been explained above), and having established his court at Kushk-i-Bágh-i-Zághán,^83b he instituted princely feasts in honour of the Khán. They made many compacts and agreements, and among other things, Sultán Abu Said Mirzá said to the Khán: “In Amir Timur's first expedition, his generals would not obey him as they should have done. Now, if he had ordered them all to be put to death, he would but have weakened his own power. The generals said to him: ‘You should appoint a Khán, whom we must obey.’ So Amir Timur appointed Suyurghátmish Khán over them, and the generals submitted to the Khán. All firmáns were issued in this Khán's name, but Amir Timur kept careful watch over him. After his death, his son Sultán Mahmud Khán was appointed in his stead. But from the reign of Amir Timur down to the time of Mirzá Ulugh Beg, the power of these Kháns was only nominal; and in my own time the Kháns have generally been prisoners in Samarkand. Since I have ascended the throne, my power is so absolute that I have no need of a Khán; so now I have divested you of the garments of poverty and, having clothed you in princely robes, am sending you back to your native country on the following conditions:—For the future you must not follow the example of your ancestors and say, ‘Amir Timur and the race of Amir Timur are our vassals, and have been for generations.’ For although it was formerly so, things have changed now, and I am pádisháh in my own right; thus, now if you are going to be my vassal, you must bear the name of ‘servitor’ [Khádim-i-Makhdum] and do away with the name of ‘friend.’ You need not, however, write to me in the way the Kháns used to write to the Timuri Mirzás, but in a friendly way;^84a and these conditions are to apply to your sons and your sons' sons.” Yunus Khán agreed to all these conditions, and swore a solemn oath to abide by them. He was then allowed to depart, accompanied by all the Moghuls who were in that district.

I HAVE only given a summarised account of Yunus Khán in the above Chapter; I will now enter more into detail.

Yunus Khán was the son of Vais Khán, son of Shir Ali Oghlán, son of Muhammad Khán, son of Khizir Khwája Khán, son of Tughluk Timur Khán. I have never heard the date of his birth, but from the date of his death and the length of his days, it may be inferred that he was born in the year 819 of the Hajra [1416], but God alone knows. He succeeded to the Khánate upon the death of his father, Vais Khán. There was much dissension between himself and his brother Isán Bughá Khán, and the Amirs; Irazán and Mirák Turkomán had seized the Khán and several of the chiefs of families, and had taken them to Ulugh Beg in Samarkand. This was when the Khán was sixteen years of age. This disaster [viráni], which took place in the year 832 of the Hajra, forms, down to the present day, an epoch among the Moghuls.^84b

Mirzá Ulugh Beg sent the Khán to his father, in the manner related, and the Khán was received with all honour and respect by Mirzá Sháh Rukh, who put him under the guidance and care of Mauláná Sharaf-ud-Din Yazdi. The Mauláná was a man of profound learning, and had not an equal in all Samarkand, Khorásán or Irák. In former times enigmas [muammá] were of a different sort to what one commonly meets with nowadays. This new kind was introduced by the Mauláná, and he has written a book concerning the solution of these enigmas. He is the author, too, of the Zafar- Náma. He also wrote some mystical commentaries on poetry,^85a and he has never been excelled, at any time, in this style of commentary. Many other works were written by him, which it would take too long to enumerate here. I only wish to demonstrate how very talented he was. The Khán studied twelve years under him, with the result that there never was, either before or after, so wise a Khán as he, among the Moghuls.

When Khidmat Mauláná died, the Khán left Yazd and made a journey in Fárs and Azarbáiján. He profited much by his travelling, and gained great experience of life. He finally selected Shiráz as a residence; there he mixed with the learned men of the place, and acquired many useful sciences and crafts, so that he became known as Ustád Yunus.

In the meanwhile, Mirzá Sultán Abu Said had seized Khorásán, and was meditating the conquest of Irák, but was prevented from carrying out this project, by the frequent incursions of Isán Bughá Khán into Farghána, Shásh and Turkistán, which caused all ideas of an expedition into Irák to be temporarily abandoned. In the year 860 of the Hajra, Mirzá Sultán Abu Said sent people to summon the Khán from Shiráz, under the conditions above mentioned, and to conduct him to Moghulistán. The Khán was then forty-one years of age.^85b

I HAVE already shown that in Moghulistán, each Amir had fortified himself where he happened to be. After this demonstration of contumacy, and the murder of Timur Uighur, Isán Bughá had withdrawn to Aksu. When Yunus Khán arrived in Moghulistán, the first of the Amirs to join him was Mir Karim Bardi; and after him, Kunji, together with several of the dispersed Moghuls, entered the Khán's service. The Khán then married the daughter of Mir Pir Haji Kunji, who was at that time an Amir Tumán of the Kunji [clan] and enjoyed absolute authority. Her name was Isán Daulat Begum. By her the Khán had three sons, each of whom will be spoken of in his proper place. Of the Begjik Amirs in Issigh Kul, Mir Pir Hakk Bardi had died, and had been succeeded by his nephew Mir Ibráhim, who also came and attached himself to the Khán.

All these Amirs offered their services to the Khán, but as they had for so long a time been acting independently, and each one for himself, they did not fulfil their duties, or offer the Khán fitting allegiance. Nevertheless, he humoured them in every way possible.

When some years had passed in this manner, the Khán set out against Káshghar. Amir Sayyid Ali was now grown very old, so that he could no longer sit on horseback. He sent a messenger [to ask help] of Isán Bughá Khán, and meanwhile fortified himself in the citadel of Káshghar. Isán Bughá Khán happened, at the time, to be in Yulduz of Moghulistán, which is on the eastern side of his dominions. When the message reached him, he immediately collected a large army, which numbered 60,000 men; with this force he marched from Yulduz, and arrived at Káshghar eleven days later. Only 6,000 men were with him, the others were still on the road [so great had been the rapidity of his march]. He was then joined by the Amir with 30,000 men. A battle was fought at Khwán-i-Sálár, which is about three farsákhs from Káshghar in the direction of Aksu. The fight was fiercely maintained, but finally Isán Bughá Khán and Amir Sayyid Ali were victorious. [Yunus] Khán was compelled to take flight, while his wives and family fell into the hands of Amir Sayyid Ali. At that time Mihr-i-Nigár Khánim, the eldest child of Yunus Khán, by Isán Daulat Begum, was still at the breast. They were supplied with necessaries and sent after the Khán.

When Yunus Khán reached Moghulistán, he was deserted by his followers, and finding it was impossible to remain in that country, he left it and proceeded to Khorásán, where he presented himself before Mirzá Sultán Abu Said. But the Khán was in such a state of destitution, that he could find nothing to offer as a present [pishkash] to the Mirzá. So the Khán said to Buyán Kuli, who was one of his most devoted servants: “I am going to give you as a slave to the Mirzá, by way of a ‘pishkash.’” And as the man offered no objection, the Khán presented him to the Mirzá, and entreated the Mirzá, saying: “You must give me some country [viláyat] as a possession, so that I may inspire the Moghuls with confidence.” The Mirzá gave him Yatikand,^87a which is on the confines of Andiján. When the hour of the Khán's departure arrived, Buyán Kuli began to weep. The Mirzá questioned him as to the cause of his tears. Having told his story, the Mirzá took pity on him, and supplying him with a horse and provisions, sent him along with the Khán.

On re-entering Moghulistán, the Khán was once more joined by his scattered adherents. At this time Amir Sayyid Ali died in Káshghar. On the dome of the mausoleum of Amir Sayyid Ali, which is in Káshghar, is written the date 862. Yunus Khán was relieved of much anxiety by the death of the Amir.

THE Amir died leaving two sons. The elder was Mirzá Sániz, whose mother was of the family [kabilah] of the Amirs of the Jarás; and the younger was Muhammad Haidar Mirzá, whose mother was Urun Sultán Khánim, the aunt of Yunus Khán. According to Moghul custom, Sániz, being the elder, succeeded to the government. He was a violent, but generous man. Out of respect and reverence for his mother, and his love and affection for his brother, he gave Káshghar and Yángi Hisár to the Khánim, and Muhammad Haidar Mirzá [respectively], while he chose Yár-kand for his seat of government.

Although Muhammad Haidar Mirzá was cousin to both Yunus Khán and Isán Bughá Khán, yet he naturally sided with the latter, because Amir Sayyid Ali had chosen Daulat Nigár Khánim, the daughter of Isán Bughá Khán, as a wife for Muhammad Haidar Mirzá.

Soon after the death of Mir Sayyid Ali, Isán Bughá Khán died also; this was in the year 866. His son Dust Muhammad Khán succeeded to the Khánate. Muhammad Haidar Mirzá allied himself with Dust Muhammad Khán, while Sániz Mirzá, on the other hand, became a partisan of Yunus Khán. Under these circumstances it became impossible for Muhammad Haidar Mirzá to remain in Káshghar, so he left, and joined Dust Muhammad Khán in Aksu.

After this, Sániz Mirzá governed Káshghar so well, and administered justice so evenly, that his time was looked back on with envy by those who came after him. He ruled during seven years, and died in the year 869 [1464-5]. He fell from his horse while out hunting, and ran five arrow-heads into his loins, causing wounds which proved fatal. After his death, the inhabitants of Káshghar brought Muhammad Haidar Mirzá to their town, while Dust Muhammad Khán advanced on Yarkand, where he married the widow of Sániz Mirzá, Jamál Aghá by name, who had given Sániz Mirzá two sons, viz.: Mirzá Abá Bakr and Omar Mirzá, and one daughter, called Khán Sultán Khánim, all of whom the Khán took back with him to Aksu. (I will speak about them below.)

WHEN Isán Bughá Khán died (a natural death) he was succeeded by his son Dust Muhammad Khán, who was then seventeen years of age. He was an eccentric youth, and his actions were unreasonable. He was never for a moment in his senses. He much affected the ways of Kalandars, and gave himself and all his Amirs such names as are usually borne by Kalandars. His own name was Shams Abdál, and in the same way, all his courtiers and public officers were called Abdál this and Abdál that, and had to transact their business under these names. He was, moreover, excessively generous.

He reigned seven years. During this time he made expeditions against Yárkand and Káshghar. First of all he attacked Yárkand, where, after the death of Sániz Mirzá, the Amirs had shut themselves up in the citadel. The Khán asked them to surrender the widow of Sániz Mirzá: when she had been given up to him, he asked for the children, of whom they sent the eldest son Mirzá Abá Bakr. He then ceased hostilities, and went on to Káshghar. At the time when he had set out against Yárkand, Muhammad Haidar Mirzá, upon the entreaty of the people of Káshghar, proceeded to their town. When the Khán neared Káshghar, Muhammad Haidar Mirzá set out to meet him; the Khán sent him to Yángi Hisár, while he himself entered Káshghar, and when he had plundered it, he returned to Aksu. In consequence of this, Muhammad Haidar Mirzá was much enraged, and went over to the side of Yunus Khán (as will be mentioned below). Soon after Dust Muhammad Khán's return to Aksu, he gave his sister, Husn Nigár Khánim, to Mirzá Abá Bakr in marriage. But Mirzá Abá Bakr was much alarmed at the unbalanced state of the Khán's mind, and finally fled to his noble uncle Muhammad Haidar Mirzá, in Káshghar, whither his wife was, soon after, permitted to follow him.

Not long after this, the Khán fell in love with one of his father's wives, and in consequence tried to obtain permission from the Ulamá for an alliance with her. He put to death seven of the Ulamá in succession, who decided against the union. At length the Khán came to Mauláná Muhammad Attár, reeling with drunkenness and with a sword in his hand, and said to him: “I want to marry my own mother; is it lawful or not?” The Mauláná, who was one of the most learned of the darvishes and a most pious man, said to the Khán: “For such a one as you it is lawful.” So the Khán immediately ordered preparations for the marriage to be made. But on the night of the nuptials he saw his father, in a dream, mounted on a black horse, who, coming up to him, said: “Oh! wretched one, in that after we have for one hundred years been Musulmáns, thou shouldst apostasise and become an infidel.” [His father] shot him below the ribs with an arrow, then dismounting, he rubbed his hand on the bottom of a kettle, and blackened the Khán's face, who thereupon awoke, in alarm. Breathless and penitent, he rushed out of the house of his mother and washed himself. He was seized with an acute pain in the side, which, in the morning, developed into fever.

The people sent for Mauláná Muhammad Attár, and said to him: “It was you who granted the fatvá [decree legalising this marriage].” The Khán said: “Do not blame the Mauláná; for I had already killed seven persons when I asked his opinion, so what could the poor Mullá do?” But the Mauláná said: “I gave you no fatva, I simply said that [the marriage] was lawful for an infidel such as you are.” Dust Muhammad Khán was next seized with pleurisy [Zatuljamb] and died after six days' illness at the age of forty, in the year 873 [1468-9]. Khwája Sharif of Káshghar devised the following chronogram on his death: “U Khuk murd”: that pig died. He had reigned seven years. On his death great disorder ensued. He left one son, Kabak Sultán Oghlán, who was seized by some of the people and carried away to Turfán and Chálish,^90a while Yunus Khán came down and captured Aksu.

WHEN Yunus Khán was sent back by Sultán Abu Said into Moghulistán, he was, on his arrival in that country, again joined by all the Amirs; he remained there some time, his headquarters being generally Yatikand. He was not, however, able to enter the territory of Isán Bughá Khán. When the latter and Amir Sayyid Ali died, Dust Muhammad Khán became pádisháh, and was joined in Aksu by Muhammad Haidar Mirzá, while Sániz Mirzá, who had been at enmity with Muhammad Haidar Mirzá, attached himself to Yunus Khán, to whom he was of great service. Yunus Khán entered Káshghar several times, but the Amirs of Moghulistán refused to stay there, so the Khán was always compelled to withdraw. This happened several times, but I will not give any details, as it would take too long, and the accounts I have heard differ considerably. The substance of the whole matter is that the Khán was very fond of cities and houses, but the Amirs and soldiers of Moghulistán always avoided the towns, and for this reason the Khán spent most of his time in Moghulistán. When Sániz Mirzá died, the Khán was joined by Muhammad Haidar Mirzá. A short time after this, Dust Muhammad Khán also died, whereupon Yunus Khán entered Aksu and subdued the subjects of Dust Muhammad Khán, while the son of this latter, Kabak Sultán Oghlán, was seized by some of his well-wishers, who fled with him to Turfán.

Yunus Khán wished to dwell in Aksu. In comparison with Moghulistán, Aksu is like a town;^91a but he concluded, from the manner of the Moghuls, that if he stayed there much longer, they would all go over to the side of Kabak Sultán Oghlán, so he was compelled to call together all his tribesmen and return with them to Moghulistán. At this time Amásánji Táishi, son of Isán Táishi (whom I have mentioned in connection with Vais Khán) came to Moghulistán. For Isán Táishi had given him [in marriage] Makhtum Khánim, sister of Vais Khán, as a ransom for the Khán's life, and by her he [Amásánji Táishi] had two sons and one daughter. When Vais Khán had bestowed his sister, he had obliged his brother-in-law to become a Musulmán, and they were married with Muhammadan rites. The Khánim caused all her following to become Musulmáns, and named her two sons Ibráhim and Ilyás, and her daughter Kádir Bardi Mirzá, after Mir Karim Bardi. This conversion to Islám was the cause of a conflict between Ibráhim Ung and Ilyás Ung, on the one hand, and Amásánji Táishi on the other. (In the language of the Kálmáks the son of a Khán is called “Ung.”) Amásánji fled before them into Moghulistán with thirty times 100,000 men, while it is stated, that eighteen times 100,000 stayed behind with Ibráhim Ung and Ilyás Ung. These two, however, quarrelled with the Khán of the Kálmáks, and therefore fled from that country into Khitái with 10,000 men. The rupture [viráni] between the brothers [and Amásánji] took place before the death of Dust Muhammad Khán, which occurred in 873. The flight of Ibráhim Ung and Ilyás Ung into Khitái took place, probably, in 910 [1504-5].^91b These two both died in Khitái. Ibráhim left one son, Bábulái by name, whose descendants are still to be met with in that country, and who still bear the same name of Bábulái. Mansur Khán made a holy war [ghazát] against Khitái and came in contact with that very tribe (as will be mentioned shortly).

But Amásánji Táishi, having separated himself from Ibráhim Ung and Ilyás Ung, came to Moghulistán. Near the River Ailah he came upon and defeated Yunus Khán. In that fight many Moghul Amirs were killed …^91c and all the Moghul Ulus moved towards Turkistán, spending the winter at a place in Turkistán, on the banks of the Sihun, called Kará Tukái.^92a Buruj Oghlán made a raid upon them, as will be hereafter related.

EVENTS WHICH FOLLOWED ON THE DEATH OF DUST MUHAMMAD KHÁN; THE SUPREMACY OF YUNUS KHÁN, AND THE MURDER OF BURUJ OGHLÁN, SON OF ABULKHAIR KHÁN UZBEG.

IN the year 855 Abulkhair, a descendant of Juji, was páaisháh in the kingdom [yurt] of Juji Khán, son of Chingiz Khán—that is in the Dasht-i-Kipchák; and he was the greatest king [pádisháh] of his time. After his death^92b his people became very demoralised, and a number of them joined the Kazáks, Karái Khán and Jáni Beg Khán (whom I have had occasion to mention). There was a standing quarrel between these two Kazáks, and the sons of Abulkhair Khán. For this reason the sons of Abulkhair were also at enmity with the Moghul Kháns. For these last had always been the supporters of Karái Khán and Jáni Beg Khán. At the death of Abulkhair Khán, his subjects gathered round his eldest son Buruj Oghlán.^92c Seeing that Karái Khán and Jáni Beg Khán had become very powerful, Buruj Khán thought he had better keep at a distance from them, and so retired to Turkistán.

When [the inhabitants of] Turkistán learnt the news of the advance of the Moghuls on their territory, and having ascertained that Yunus Khán was at Kará Tukái, [they sent] Buruj out with all speed [to attack him]. On that day the Khán happened to be out hunting with all his men near the banks of the Sihun. Buruj, crossing the river on the ice at mid-day, found the camp of the Khán undefended; he had 20,000 soldiers with him, and there were at that time 60,000 families of Moghuls. They entered the camp and each soldier made himself master of an untenanted house. They settled down in the Khán's camp, occupying themselves with the appropriation of all the wealth and spoil they found there.

When news of this matter reached the Khán he immediately abandoned the hunt, and set out in the direction of his camp without waiting to collect his men; when he reached the river he found it was frozen over. Now the Khán's camp was pitched on the [opposite] bank of the river. The Khán could blow the horn [nafir] better than any one of his day, and all his men knew the sound of his blast. He now gave a loud blast on the horn, and then rushed across the ice, accompanied by six men, one of whom was bearer of the great standard [Shash Tughji]. The women [hearing the approach of the Khán] seized all the Uzbegs who were in their houses. When Buruj Oghlán heard the sound of the horn and saw the six men and the standard, he rose up with the intent of mounting his horse, but the female servants had seized both his groom [akhtaji] and his horse. Some women [at that moment] came out of their houses and seized Buruj Oghlán, when the Khán, arriving upon the scene, ordered them to behead him; this order was carried out immediately, and of the 20,000 Uzbegs a few only escaped. The Khán then again settled down, victorious, in his camp. On the morrow, when the army had reassembled, the pursuit of the enemy was continued, and all the Sultáns of Abulkhair Khán who survived, were scattered in different directions. They will be mentioned, separately and individually, in different parts [of this book].

HAVING passed the winter at Kará Tukái, the Khán proceeded in the spring to Táshkand. At that time there was, in Táshkand, one of the Amirs of Mirzá Sultán Abu Said, Shaikh Jamál-ud-Din Khar by name. Sultán Abu Said Mirzá had just died in Irák,^93a and had been succeeded in the rule of Khorásán by Sultán Husain Mirzá; while his son, Sultán Ahmad Mirzá, succeeded him in Samarkand. The government of Hisár, Kunduz and Badakhshán had devolved upon his son, Mirzá Sultán Mahmud, and Mirzá Omar Shaikh became pádisháh of Andiján, and vali of Farghána. Yunus Khán made all three of these Mirzás his sons-in-law. (I will mention each of them in his proper place.) In short, this Shaikh Jamál Khar was one of Sultán Abu Sáid's Amirs, and had been appointed Governor of Táshkand, subject to Mirzá Sultán Ahmad of Samar-kand; but his allegiance to the Mirzá was very imperfect. The Khán, on account of the scarcity of barley in Moghulistán, came to Táshkand, where he mixed freely and unsuspectingly with the above-mentioned Mirzás. For the Khán had come without any apprehensions; but his Moghul followers had sent secretly to Shaikh Jamál Khar, inviting him to come and oppose the Khán, to which the Shaikh, after much persuasion, agreed. He approached the Khán as if to do him homage, but when he drew near, all the men who were with the latter, went forward to meet the Shaikh, leaving the Khán alone. The Khán asked where his men were going, to which they answered that they were going to meet Mir Shaikh Jamál. When Shaikh Jamál Khar came up to the standard and drum of the Khán, he remained on horseback; there was no one with the Khán, so the Shaikh sent one of the Khán's own servants to seize him, which was easily managed. The Khán was bound and kept in prison one year. The whole Moghul Ulus submitted to Shaikh Jamál.

Isán Daulat Begum, the wife of Yunus Khán and mother of his children, has been mentioned above as the mother of Mihr-i-Nigár Khánim, who was given in marriage to Sultán Ahmad Mirzá, and of Kutluk Nigár Khánim, who was wedded to Mirzá Omar Shaikh. This same Isán Daulat Begum was given, as a present, by Shaikh Jamál Khar, to one of his most distinguished officers. When the Begum heard of this, she made no objections, but appeared pleased. They then informed Khwája Kalán (as this officer was named) of the Begum's pleasure: he too was much pleased, and in the evening went to her house. He found her servants standing outside. He himself entered her room. Now, before his arrival, the Begum had arranged with her female attendants [dáhán] that on a given sign from herself, they should make fast all the doors of the house. So when Khwája Kalán had entered the room, having fastened the doors, the female attendants laid hold of him and put him to death, by stabbing him with knives [kizlik]. When day broke they threw his body outside. Some persons seeing the Khwája's dead body, went and reported the matter to Shaikh Jamál, who sent to ask the Begum the meaning of it all. The Begum replied: “I am the wife of Sultán Yunus Khán; Shaikh Jamál gave me to some one else; this is not allowed by Muhammadan law, so I killed the man, and Shaikh Jamál Khar may kill me also if he likes.” Shaikh Jamál commended her words, and, taking pity on her, sent her back with all honour to the Khán [her husband].

When the Khán had been one year in prison, Amir Abdul Kudus, the nephew of Amir Karim Bardi Dughlát, with the assistance of a body of men, fell on the Shaikh and slew him. He then brought the head of the Shaikh to the Khán, and set him at liberty. The Amirs, who had gone over to the Shaikh, now returned to their allegiance under the Khán. They explained that the reason for the hostility they had shown him was, that he had always tried to make them settle in towns and cultivated countries, but that these places were hateful to them. So the Khán repented and said: “Henceforward I will give up all idea of living in towns and cultivated countries” [shahr u viláyat]. To record this event they invented the chronogram: sar-i-khar giriftah Abdul Kudus, which is enigmatical; for “sar-i-khar” is equivalent to the letter “khá” and has to be added to [the numerical value of] Abdul Kudus in order to produce the date 877 [1472-3].

At this time [in the same year] the Kálmáks returned to their own homes [yurt], and Moghulistán being left unoccupied, the Khán led his Moghuls back to their country.

AS soon as the Khán had again established himself on the throne of the Khánate, the Moghuls and the Amirs made him promise never, for the future, to attempt to make them dwell in cities or cultivated countries [shahr u viláyat], which had been the cause of all their sedition and revolts. The Khán was obliged to comply, and they then re-entered Moghulistán, which had been vacated by the Kálmáks. During several years the Khán never even made mention [hawá] of towns or houses, so that at length the Moghuls became much attached to him.

Muhammad Haidar Mirzá, who was in Káshghar, yielded fitting obedience to the Khán, from whom he, in return, received demonstrations of paternal affection; and complete tranquillity prevailed in Moghulistán and Káshghar.

Soon after the Khán's return, the followers of Kabak Sultán Oghlán (son of Dust Muhammad Khán), who had fled in the direction of Turfán, having killed their master, brought his head to the Khán. But the Khán, in spite of Kabak having been his enemy, was (for Kabak's brother's sake) very angry, and ordered the murderers [to be put to death] by way of retaliation.

The Khán had now no enemies remaining on any side. After he had killed Buruj Oghlán, he sent his eldest daughter, Mihr Nigár Khánim, to Sultán Ahmad Mirzá, son of Sultán Abu Said Mirzá, saying: “Sultán Abu Said Mirzá turned the enmity that existed between Moghul and Chaghatái into friendship. I wish now to cement this friendship with a family alliance, and therefore offer my daughter, as a wife, to the son of Sultán Abu Said Mirzá.” Mihr Nigár Khánim remained in the haram of Mirzá Sultán Ahmad as long as he lived. (I shall have more to say of the Khánim in the second part of this work.)

After the Khán's return to Moghulistán, when Shaikh Jamál Khar had been put to death, he gave his daughter, Kutluk Nigár Khánim, who was younger than Mihr Nigár Khánim, in marriage to Omar Shaikh Mirzá, son of Sultán Abu Said Mirzá. This was in the year 880. There existed between the Khán and Omar Shaikh such an affection as is seldom even found between father and son. Omar Shaikh used to go and spend a month, or two months, at a time in Moghulistán, and sometimes he would bring back his father with him to Andiján, and the Khán would be his guest for a month or more. About this time Omar Shaikh tried to induce the Khán to march on Samarkand, and after depriving his brother Mirzá Sultán Ahmad (the eldest son-in-law of Yunus Khán) of the throne, to set him (Omar Shaikh) upon it, in his brother's stead. But the Khán would not hear of such a measure. When Sultán Ahmad heard of his brother's scheme, he set out to oppose him with an army. But Omar Shaikh Mirzá appealed to the Khán for succour, giving him, at the same time, some of his own territories. Thus Sultán Ahmad was hindered from making an invasion. This state of affairs was constantly recurring. It was, however, at length agreed that the Khán should come every winter to Andiján, attended only by his own personal servants; leaving the Ulus of the Moghul in Moghulistán. Omar Shaikh Mirzá was to give to the Khán whichever of his territories the latter might select. In the spring, the Khán was to return to Moghulistán, and the Mirzá again take possession of his own territories.

On one occasion, Omar Shaikh Mirzá, being in great fear of his brother, sent to Yunus Khán for support, while he gave over to him Akhsi. The Khán took up his winter quarters in Akhsi, hearing of which, Sultán Ahmad Mirzá abandoned his hostile intentions. Omar Shaikh Mirzá, though his mind was set at rest with regard to his brother, nevertheless did not like the Khán's residing in Akhsi. For Akhsi was the largest town in Farghána, and its capital. On this account he rose in arms against the Khán, and fought a battle against him at the Bridge of Tiká Sagrutku.^96a

The Khán at first remonstrated with the Mirzá, but in vain; and a battle ensued in which the Mirzá was defeated and taken prisoner. He was brought bound before the Khán, who rose up to meet him and ordered his hands to be set free. He then made him presents and sent him away, saying: “Return home at once, that your men be thrown into confusion. I too will follow you to your house.” When Omar Shaikh Mirzá returned to Andiján, the Khán allowed his Ulus to go back to Moghulistán, while he himself proceeded to Andiján with his family [kuj] and a few followers. He remained in the house of the Mirzá for two months, and nothing disturbed their friendship.^97a

On another occasion when the Mirzá called on the Khán for assistance, he gave him Marghilán. While the Khán was in Marghilán, his Holiness, the Axis of pious works, the Cynosure of the pious, the Beloved of God, Khwája Násiruddin Ubaidullah (may God sanctify his spirit) came there in order to bring about a reconciliation between the Khán and Omar Shaikh Mirzá, on the one hand, and Sultán Ahmad Mirzá on the other. I have often heard from trustworthy narrators, that when his Holiness arrived near Marghilán, all the Moghuls and the inhabitants of the town came out to meet him [in istikbál], but none of the Moghuls had the presumption to approach him [to salute him], such was their great regard [for this holy man]. Men and women halted at a distance and, dismounting, fastened their horses to the ground, while they themselves kept their eyes fixed on the dust of the road. His Holiness then approached them. There was one among his retinue who recognised the Khán, and he said to his Holiness, “This is Yunus Khán.” His Holiness immediately dismounted, and having raised the Khán's head from the ground, embraced him.

I once heard from his Holiness, the Refuge of Piety, Mauláná Muhammad Kázi (upon whom be mercy), who on a certain occasion went to Marghilán, the following: “I had heard that Yunus Khán was a Moghul, and I concluded that he was a beardless man, with the ways and manners of any other Turk of the desert. But when I saw him, I found he was a person of elegant deportment, with a full beard and a Tájik face,^97b and such refined speech and manner, as is seldom to be found even in a Tájik.” In short, when his Holiness had seen the Khán, he addressed letters to all the Sultáns round about, saying: “I have seen Yunus Khán and the Moghuls. The subjects of such a pádisháh are not to be carried off captives. They are people of Islám.” From this time forth, no more Moghuls were bought or sold as slaves in Mávará-un-Nahr and Khorásán—for before this, the Moghuls had been purchased as other Káfirs are purchased.

AFTER the death of Sániz Mirzá, son of Amir Sayyid Ali, the government of Káshghar was given to Muhammad Haidar Mirzá, son of Amir Sayyid Ali (as was related above). When he had become firmly established in that place, Dust Muhammad Khán died.

Yunus Khan, in order to satisfy the Moghu! Ulus, gave up all intention of inhabiting cities and cultivated lands. Muhammad Haidar Mirzá, in Káshghar, acknowledged the supremacy of the Khán, who in return treated him in a fatherly way. Muhammad Haidar Mirzá reigned in peace and prosperity for twenty-four years in all: that is from the year 869 to 885 (or sixteen years) he had absolute authority; and for the remainder, partial authority only.^98a

ON the death of Sániz Mirzá, Dust Muhammad Khán went to Yárkand, and took the widow of Sániz Mirzá to wife. He then proceeded to Aksu, taking with him Abá Bakr Mirzá, the eldest son of Sániz Mirzá. Not long after this, he gave his sister Husn Nigár Khánim, in marriage to the young Mirzá. But Abá Bakr, fearing the unsoundness of Dust Muhammad Khan's mind, fled to his uncle Muhammad Haidar Mirzá; and Dust Muhammad Khán sent Husn Nigár Khánim after him to Káshghar (all of which I have already related).

Dust Muhammad was a very brave and generous man, and of so great a height, that if he stood on foot in the midst of a hundred people, any one seeing him would have said he was on horseback. But Muhammad Haidar Mirzá having inherited his power, did not know the value and importance of an army. The distinguished generals and captains which Amir Sayyid Ali had collected round his person during a life of eighty years, were in the time of Muhammad Haidar Mirzá, for the most part dead, and those who yet remained alive, were worn with age; while their sons and grandsons had no relations with Muhammad Haidar Mirzá. All the young men and the princes [mirzázádah] were in favour of Mirzá Abá Bakr. It would be a long story, to recount all the details concerning those who were parties to these intrigues; moreover, though it is only twenty years ago,^99a not one of them is alive now, and the various and conflicting reports which were at that time spread about, are now entirely forgotten. It is, however, certain that Mirzá Abá Bakr fled from Muhammad Haidar Mirzá, and presented himself before the Governor of Yárkand. Showing him a forged order, he, by cunning and deceit, made himself master of Yárkand. He then sent certain persons to his uncle Muhammad Haidar Mirzá, offering complete submission to him, which the Khán accepted, and sent him, for his own service, 3000 young princes from Káshghar. His brother, Omar Mirzá, who was in Káshghar at the time, now came to join him in the government of Yárkand. They united their efforts in an attempt to subdue Khotan. Having mentioned this town here, I think it necessary to say something about Khotan and its governors.

KHOTAN is one of the most famous towns in the East. In the Second Part, I have given all that I have been able to learn from histories, and other books, concerning Khotan. When the Amirship [Imárat] of the Dughláts descended to Amir Khudáidád (upon whom be mercy), he divided all the dependencies of the Dughláts among his children and his brothers. Thus to his youngest son, Sayyid Ahmad Mirzá, he entrusted Káshghar and Yárkand. Amir Khudáidád had two maternal brothers [umm-valad], Ilyás Sháh and Khizir Sháh by name. To the former he gave Aksu, and to the latter Khotan, making them both subordinate to Sayyid Ahmad Mirzá, to whom he granted the power of their dismissal or appointment. These two, like all his other officers, used to come and wait on the Mirzá yearly, and then, when they were granted leave, they returned to their respective provinces. This practice was observed until the time of Amir Sayyid Ali.

When Amir Sayyid Ali gave Aksu to Isán Bughá Khán, there was, in the service of the latter, one of the grandsons of Ilyás Sháh Mirzá, who was also named Ilyás Sháh, and who, till the time of Dust Muhammad Khán, had the command of the fortress of Aksu. But after Amir Sayyid Ali, there were in Khotan two brothers, descendants of Khizir Sháh Mirzá; the name of one was Khán Nazar Mirzá, and of the other Kul Nazar Mirzá. The former reckoned himself equal in strength and power of the arm, to Mirzá Abá Bakr, nay even to Amir Sayyid Ali. He showed a spirit of independence, and threw off the old allegiance to Káshghar. Mirzá Abá Bakr begged permission of Muhammad Haidar Mirzá to go and conquer Khotan, on the ground that Khán Nazar and Kul Nazar had sought to deviate from that high-road of obedience, which was one of the conditions of their inheritance. Muhammad Haidar Mirzá, being himself displeased with these two [governors] granted the demand, and encouraged him [in the undertaking]. Thus Mirzá Abá Bakr acted freely in the matter of Khotan.

Khán Nazar Mirzá had made himself an iron club, which no one but he could lift with two hands; he, however, could wield it with one hand, and whatever he struck with it, were it a horse or a cow, inevitably fell. But his younger brother, Kul Nazar Mirzá, was a young man of great modesty. These two brothers aimed at becoming kings.

IN those days, when Mirzá Abá Bakr was intent on the conquest of Khotan, he had with him Omar Mirzá. His elder brother did not approve of his proceedings, and wished to join issue with him. Upon Mirzá Abá Bakr ascertaining this, he contrived to lay hands on him, and having blinded him, sent him to Muhammad Haidar Mirzá. After the destruction [viráni] of Káshghar, Omar Mirzá went to Samarkand, where he was treated with kindness, till, in the year 921, he returned to Káshghar. Here he died, and was buried in the mausoleum of Amir Sayyid Ali.

In short, Abá Bakr being released from the molestations of his brother, continued his march upon Khotan. On the first occasion he made peace; on the second, matters were again concluded with a treaty. The two governors mounted, and having met and conferred together, they arranged the conditions of the peace, and took a solemn oath upon the Word of God, in confirmation of the agreement. Mirzá Abá Bakr, having given the bond to his own servants, handed the Korán [the Kalám Ullah]^101a to one of his nobles, telling him to take it to Khán Nazar Mirzá. When Khán Nazar Mirzá stretched out his hand to take the “Kalám Ullah,” the noble seized his hand with both his own, while others attacked him from every side with swords: for the followers of Mirzá Abá Bakr, having previously agreed upon this, had been standing ready. He was taken quite by surprise. None of the retainers of Khán Nazar Mirzá being able to use their arms [to help him], they fled, while some others who had been appointed for the business, seized Kul Nazar Mirzá. The two brothers were put to death with the sword, and by this ruse their seed was eradicated from Khotan; thus did Abá Bakr conquer Khotan and gain absolute power. Having finished this affair, Abá Bakr started on an expedition against his uncle, Muhammad Haidar Mirzá.

AFTER the death of Sániz Mirzá, Dust Muhammad Khán (as has been mentioned) took to wife the widow of Sániz Mirzá, whose name was Jamák Ághá. He, moreover, gave Káshghar to Muhammad Haidar Mirzá. These events took place in the year 869.

On the death of Dust Muhammad Khán, Muhammad Haidar Mirzá married Jamák Ághá, who was the mother of Mirzá Abá Bakr and of Omar Mirzá. By her, Muhammad Haidar Mirzá had two sons: my father Muhammad Husain Kurkán, and my uncle Sayyid Muhammad Mirzá. After the conquest of Khotan, Mirzá Abá Bakr became still more powerful. In vain were the reflections and protestations of his Amirs, who represented that his whole career, from beginning to end, had been one of tyranny: that he spared no one: that he had seized Yárkand by stealth and by the employment of unheard-of perfidy: that after he had put out the eyes of Omar Mirzá, he had put to death Khán Nazar and Kul Nazar. How could the world look with the eye of trust upon such a man? He still longed for Káshghar, and his sole object in life was to make his kingdom into a sausage [kulmah].^102a In spite of their laying these matters before Muhammad Haidar Mirzá, the latter, on account of his affection for his nephew, made light of it all; and his wife, who was the mother of his children, and the mother of Mirzá Abá Bakr, said to him, in opposing the remonstrances of the Amirs: “He is your son: Yárkand belonged to one of your Amirs. Since Yárkand was the capital of his father, it is his by right, but you did not give it him. If he has been presumptuous, he at least counted on your forgiveness. What matter if they make him out a bad man to you? Khotan, too, was in the possession of another. What harm was there in his superseding [the usurper]?”

In this manner she excused all the actions of Mirzá Abá Bakr; so that Muhammad Haidar Mirzá was appeased and comforted; but when she touched on the hostility which Abá Bakr had displayed towards Muhammad Haidar Mirzá, she declared that it was all owing to the Amirs who had spoken badly of the Mirzá. She then secretly wrote to Mirzá Abá Bakr, asking him how she was to excuse his hostility [to her husband], and stating the reason she had already given. Then Mirzá Abá Bakr, in conformity with this, replied: “As long as the Amirs are in power, I cannot offer fitting service, for they seek to do me harm by vilifying my character to you: if you will dismiss these Amirs, I will be not only a son to you, but a slave also.” Muhammad Haidar Mirzá, in the simplicity of his heart, credited these lies and discharged his Amirs. Since the most influential of the generals were thus removed, the power of his kingdom was broken; and Mirzá Abá Bakr began to ravage all the country round about Káshghar and Yángi Hisár; but as all the greatest generals had been dismissed, there was no one to watch over and protect the country.

AMIR ABDUL KUDUS, who was mentioned above as having slain Shaikh Jamál Khar and released the Khán from prison, was treated with great kindness by the Khán, and had been given the title of Kurkáni; all the privileges [mansab] of the clan [Tumán] of Dughlát had been bestowed upon him. In consequence of this he grew proud and presumptuous, and treated the Khán in such a way as to make him frightened at his own acts; but it would take too long to explain all this. Abdul Kudus, however, finally fled to Káshghar, to Muhammad Haidar Mirzá, who had just dismissed his generals, on which account his affairs had fallen into confusion, and he was repenting his deed. When Abdul Kudus arrived, he treated him with every respect, gave him his own daughter Ághá Sultán Sultánim in marriage, showed him marked favour, and having raised an army, sent him against Mirzá Abá Bakr. He fell upon the Mirzá, who was on a plundering foray in Yángi Hisár. Mir Abdul Kudus was, however, defeated, in spite of his force being greater than that of his enemy. He was so ashamed of himself that he did not go back to Muhammad Haidar Mirzá, but moved first to Sháhnáz, and then set out on the road to Badakhshán. He went with 300 men to Mirzá Sultán Mahmud, who showed him every kindness and attention, and bestowed on him the government of Khust, which is one of the most important districts in Badakhshán and Kunduz. He was [afterwards] slain in that country by some infidels of Katur.^103a

In short, after the departure of Mir Abdul Kudus, the power of Mirzá Abá Bakr increased. With his deceit and cunning, he had caused Muhammad Haidar Mirzá to send away his greatest generals and commanders, and he had defeated Mir Abdul Kudus; so that dark days had come upon the transactions of Muhammad Haidar Mirzá. Jamák Ághá repented of what she had done, but it was of no avail. Finally Muhammad Haidar Mirzá made ready an army of nearly 30,000 cavalry and infantry, and took the field against Mirzá Abá Bakr, who opposed him with 3000 men. A fierce battle was fought, and Muhammad Haidar Mirzá suffered defeat. Having come to Káshghar, he told his noble uncle Yunus Khán all that had happened, and begged his assistance. The Khán selected 50,000 men from his own army, and out of the affection he bore his nephew, marched in person against Abá Bakr. Muhammad Haidar Mirza having again collected an army, joined the Khán, and they all proceeded together against Yárkand. Mirzá Abá Bakr fortified the citadel of Yárkand. The Khán halted on the eastern side of the citadel. On the next day Mirzá Abá Bakr drew out his cavalry and infantry from the citadel into the suburbs: they were 3000 in number, all the sons of the generals and chiefs [mirzádah and behádurzádah] of Mir Sayyid Ali, whom Muhammad Haidar Mirzá had slighted. But Mirzá Abá Bakr had collected them in a body. The Khán arrived from one side with a large army and Muhammad Haidar Mirzá from another. Mirzá Abá Bakr did not direct his force to any extent against Muhammad Haidar Mirzá, but brought all his strength to bear upon the Khán, and after many attacks and retreats, finally put him to flight. When the Khán fled, Muhammad Haidar Mirzá also took flight, and thus this great army was defeated.

When the Khán and Muhammad Haidar Mirzá arrived at Káshghar, the Khán said to the latter: “Thinking it would be an easy matter, I only brought a small force. Stop in your own country this year; next year I will come with a complete army and will settle [Abá Bakr's] affairs.” The Khán then returned to Moghulistán, while Muhammad Haidar Mirzá remained in Káshghar.

IN the following year, 885, the Khán came to Káshghar with the whole of the Moghul troops, who numbered 60,000 men. Here he was joined by Muhammad Haidar Mirzá, who had a better ordered army than he had had the year before, and they advanced together on Yárkand. The two forces together amounted to 90,000 men, cavalry and infantry. Mirzá Abá Bakr again fortified himself in the citadel, as he had done the year before. He had mustered an army of cavalry and infantry to the number of about 5000. The cavalry consisted of 3000 of those princes of whom I have spoken—chosen young men, whom Muhammad Haidar Mirzá, in his ignorance, had let slip out of his power. The 2000 infantry were chosen archers, all of whom the Mirzá had brought together by promises and hopes [of gain]. The Khán's army encamped in a circle round [the town].^105a The Khán himself took up his quarters in Kálu Aj Bári, a well-known place to the north-east of Yárkand.

After the afternoon prayer, distinguished men from the battalions and divisions [kushun u tábin] of the Khán's army advanced, of their own accord, before the citadel and opened the battle. Mirzá Abá Bakr's force issued from the citadel in the following order: between every two horsemen there was an archer on foot, and in front of each archer there was another foot-soldier bearing a shield. A hard fight took place; but the Khán remained in his own quarters. Some persons came and gave him such a vivid description of the battle that he longed to go and see it himself. So, without putting on his armour, he started for the scene of action with a small number of followers. On reaching the edge of a ravine they saw that the infantry of both sides were engaged in close fight. From this position they could not see very distinctly, so the Khán descended into the ravine, and came on to the road in order to get a better view—for the ravine was a road-way. When the Khán came down, the infantry became more daring, and fought most fiercely. At that moment Alim Shaikh Bahádur, who was one of the Khán's most distinguished warriors, was in his tent; he heard that the Khán had gone to watch [the battle], and it occurred to him that he would go and display his valour, that he might become distinguished above his equals. Having fastened on his armour, he passed before the Khán, and then went in among the infantry who were engaged in the battle.

There was some ground between the infantry of the two armies, and on either side was an enclosure for herding cattle [gávbandi]; between these two enclosures was a level passage. Alim Shaikh Bahádur rode up this passage and charged the infantry of Mirzá Abá Bakr, until he came upon a foot-soldier with a shield, who, seeing him come on unchecked, did not attempt to withstand him, but having thrown down his shield in front of the horse of Alim Shaikh Bahádur, ran away. The horse, being terrified at the fall of the shield, reared so badly that Alim Shaikh Bahádur, not able to keep his seat, was thrown. The infantry who were on the other side of the enclosure, now jumped over it and seized Alim Shaikh Bahádur. Meantime, the cavalry of Mirzá Abá Bakr charged the Khán's infantry, but these, not deeming it advisable to stand their ground, turned and fled, being followed by those who had come to watch the battle.

The Khán had descended from the [edge of the] ravine, but those who were with him now counselled him to re-ascend. The Khán set out in all haste along the road in the ravine, but when his men, who were on the top, saw him approaching in haste, they fled [in a panic]. So that when the Khán emerged from the ravine, he found all his men had taken flight, and that his army was in confusion. He thereupon returned to his camp in order to reassure his men; he tried beating and striking them, but not one of them would move from his place. In the meanwhile Mirzá Abá Bakr engaged the infantry, who had come down by way of the ravine; he attacked with his cavalry those who had been watching the battle, charging up the ravine unresisted, then pursuing [the fugitives] until his cavalry threw them into confusion. When the Khán's army— already disordered—saw this state of affairs, they suddenly turned and fled: all the Khan's efforts to rally them were ineffectual. When the cavalry of Mirzá Abá Bakr came on, the Khán himself took to flight. Thus was this enormous army defeated in the space of one hour.

The Khán retreated to Káshghar, while most of the army deserted him and escaped to Moghulistán. [The Khán] advised Muhammad Haidar Mirzá not to remain in Káshghar, so the Mirzá accompanied the Khán to Aksu, taking with him 5000 families. Many of the Káshghari went to Andiján, so that Káshghar was left clear for Mirzá Abá Bakr. These events occurred in the year 885. At that time my father, Muhammad Husain Mirzá Kurkán, was twelve years of age. When Muhammad Haidar Mirzá went to Aksu with Yunus Khán, the son of the latter, Sultán Mahmud Khán, took my father with him into Moghulistán, where they became great friends; and to the end of his life he called my father “Dásh,” which in the Moghul language means “friend.”

AS an account will be given of Sultán Mahmud Khán, it is necessary to say a few words about his early life.

When Sultán Yunus Khán returned a second time from Kho-rásán, Amir Sayyid Ali had died, and Sániz Mirzá had sought the assistance of Yunus Khán, as has been mentioned. Yunus Khán, in those days, often went backwards and forwards to Káshghar. At that time, the Khán sent Amir Ziá-ud-Din (who was one of the most eminent Sayyids of Káshghar) to Sháh Sultán Muhammad Badakhshi, in Badakhshán, to ask one of his most immaculate daughters in marriage. Sháh Sultán Badakhshi was of the race of Sikandar Zulkarnain, Filikus Rumi.^107a Sikandar, after he had conquered the regions of the world, consulted with his wise men, saying: “Find me a place which shall be out of the reach of the princes of the earth [Sultáns of the time], in which I may place my descendants.” The councillors chose Badakhshán, and they wrote a Book of Regulations [Dastur ul amal]; so that as long as the regulations were observed, no one prince could prevail in this country.

From the time of Sikandar down to the time of Sháh Sultán Muhammad, nobody had attacked Badakhshán. Thus they had ruled from generation to generation. When the kingdom passed into the hands of Sháh Sultán Muhammad Badakhshi, he discarded the “Dastur ul amal” of Sikandar.^107b He was a prince of great natural gifts and refined taste, and he left a “Diván,” which is exceedingly beautiful. His “takhallus,” or poetical name, was Láli. His elegance and clearness of style were so great that he altered [the wording of] the “Dastur ul amal” to suit his own taste.

He had six daughters. He gave one of them to Sultán Masud Kábuli, who was a descendant of Amir Timur. Another he gave to Sultán Abu Said Mirzá, who had, by her, a son named Mirzá Abá Bakr. The Mirzá, after the death of his father, engaged in war with Sultán Husain Mirzá, and caused much disturbance in his kingdom (all of which is related in the Histories of Mir Khwánd and of Khwánd Mir, of Herat). A third daughter he gave to Ibráhim Barlás, who, by her, had Jahángir Barlás, who at the end of the Chaghatái rule [daulat] became chief minister. His fourth daughter, whose name was Sháh Begum, he sent to Yunus Khán, at the request of Sayyid Ziá-ud-Din Káshghari. He gave his fifth daughter to Sayyid Sháh Buzurg Arhangi (who will be mentioned below); and the sixth to Shaikh Abdullah Barlás, who, by her, had Sultán Vais Barlás, Mizrab Barlás, and Sultán Sanjar (all of whom will be spoken of in their proper places); they are moreover mentioned in the Histories of Mir Khwánd and Khwánd Mir, of Herat.^108a

In short, Sayyid Ziá-ud-Din brought Sháh Begum back with him to Káshghar, and delivered her over to the Khán. Yunus Khán had two sons and two daughters by Sháh Begum. The eldest of all was Sultán Mahmud Khán. He was born in 868. Next to him came Sultán Ahmad Khán (whom I shall mention separately). The two daughters were Sultán Nigár Khánim and Daulat Sultán Khánim (of these also I shall have occasion to speak hereinafter). Before Sultán Mahmud Khán arrived at years of discretion, the Amirs of Moghulistán (as I have recorded) had behaved rudely and disrespectfully to Yunus Khán. By the time Sultán Mahmud Khán was grown up, most of these Moghul Amirs were dead. Yunus Khán, with the help of his son Sultán Mahmud Khán, obtained complete ascendency and control over the Moghuls, and over those of their Amirs who were still alive.

On the occasion of Yunus Khán being defeated before Yárkand and retiring to Káshghar, he was not accompanied by Sultán Mahmud Khán; for Mahmud remained behind in Moghulistán, to keep the people in order.

Yunus Khán, both to quiet the apprehensions of Muhammad Haidar Mirzá, and for his own pleasure, spent that winter in Aksu. They sent the son of Muhammad Haidar Mirzá, Muhammad Husain Mirzá, who was then twelve years of age, to Sultán Mahmud Khán, with whom he became very friendly; the two remained on good terms, and used to call each other “Dásh” [friend]. Muhammad Husain Mirzá stayed in Moghulistán with Sultán Mahmud Khán, and was treated with great honour and respect.

THAT winter the Khán went to Aksu. Aksu is situated on the edge of a ravine. It has two forts, one of which the Khán gave to Muhammad Haidar Mirzá, while he established himself in the other. That winter passed peacefully. On the setting in of spring, Yunus Khán wished to move into Moghulistán. He therefore said to Muhammad Haidar Mirzá: “Now that the first spring has come I am going into Moghulistán. You stay here and make your men cultivate the land. I bestow the country of Aksu on you. When harvest-time comes round, it will also be the end of the season for summer quarters in Moghulistán. The horses will be in good condition, and we will then go to Káshghar and settle scores with Mirzá Abá Bakr. I shall march from Moghulistán and you from here. We will meet in Káshghar, and there make all final arrangements.”

Having agreed upon this plan of action, the Khán appointed people to go to Moghulistán with the flocks. He [also] sent to collect the flocks destined for Moghulistán. But some rebellious men tried to instil into the mind of Muhammad Haidar Mirzá, that when the Khán arrived in Moghulistán he would plunder the Mirza's people; and many like impossibilities did they suggest, such as could only proceed from Satan; but the Mirzá, in his simplicity, gave ear to all they said, and began to consider how he might avert these evils. Those devils [Shiátin] said to him: “When the flocks reach the Khán, and he is able to make a start, we will influence his younger son, Ahmad Khán, who is accompanying his father, to separate himself from him. We will then fortify ourselves in this citadel and defy the Khán. When the hour of the Khan's departure comes he will suspect nothing, and will march into Moghulistán, while we shall remain established in Aksu.”

This base and senseless plan was acceptable in the sight of Muhammad Haidar Mirzá. Just as the Khán was about to start, they suddenly closed the gates of Aksu. Sultán Ahmad Khán fled to Muhammad Haidar Mirzá; and they all rose in rebellion. Yunus Khán sent a messenger to the Mirzá, to treat with him, but to no purpose. So the Khán finally abandoned his march, and entering the other fort, put it into a state of defence. He then despatched a messenger to Sultán Mahmud Khán, who after seventeen days arrived with a force of 30,000 men. Conflicts took place daily, till at the end of forty days a famine broke out in the fort of the Mirzá. The promoters of the rebellion began to desert nightly. Sultán Ahmad Khán, alarmed at his own want of filial piety, came to his parents with apologies and prayers for forgiveness, but the Mirzá stood out. Suddenly the fort was taken by a general assault. The Khán immediately sent some Amirs to prevent it from being plundered. The Amirs went, but their efforts were of no avail, for the men who had made the assault were not of the sort that could be withheld. After a hundred struggles they seized the Mirzá and brought him before the Khán. As they approached, they were beginning to bind the Mirzá's hands, but Yunus Khán cried out to prevent them. So they brought the Mirzá forward just as he was. The Khán called him to him, and having upbraided and rebuked him severely, said: “Why did you do this? Abandon your rebellious intentions, so that I may depart. Remain here. [But if] again you rebel [think] what will happen.”^110a

Muhammad Haidar Mirzá was ashamed, and stood with bowed head, at the thought of his ill-advised actions. The Khán then said: “All is well now, I have given you Aksu, and you should stay there.” The Mirzá replied: “How can I remain now in Aksu, since so many of my men have gone away?” The Khán, thereupon, gave the Mirzá 3000 horses, and said: “Accompany me into Moghulistán; I think, too, the wisest plan will be for me to go to Káshghar, as soon as the corn is high, and try and take that town for you …”^110b

In short, Muhammad Haidar Mirzá accompanied Yunus Khán into Moghulistán. When the spring came to an end, the Khán turned his thoughts to Káshghar. At the same time Sultán Ahmad Mirzá was planning an expedition from Samarkand, against Farghána, from which country he wished to expel his brother Omar Shaikh Mirzá. As soon as Omar Shaikh Mirzá heard of his brother's intention, he sent in great haste to Yunus Khán, begging assistance; for by this means he had frequently (as has been mentioned above) been delivered from the cruelty and violence of his brother Sultán Ahmad Mirzá. On the arrival of the news, the Khán set out for Andiján. Now the Khán did not wish that there should be any strife between his two sons-in-law, and had always tried to keep them at peace with each other. On the Khán's entry into Andiján, he was received by Omar Shaikh Mirzá; he was shown great honour, and the province of Ush was given to him. The Khán spent that winter in Ush. Entrusting the rest of the Moghuls to the care of Sultán Mahmud Khán, he sent them back to Moghulistán, while he himself made his winter quarters in Ush, and appointed Muhammad Haidar Mirzá as administrator [váli]. When Sultán Ahmad Mirzá heard of the arrival of the Khán, he abandoned his project. And thus Omar Shaikh was rendered safe from his brother. When winter had passed, the Khán came again to Moghulistán. [On the eve of his departure] the Khán said to the Mirzá: “You have always suffered great annoyance in Moghulistán. I have now given you this country of Ush. Stay here till next winter, when I will return. [In the meanwhile] govern the country, as my deputy.”

He then left for Moghulistán, while Muhammad Haidar Mirzá remained in Ush. The Mirzá begged his own son, Muhammad Husain Mirzá, of the Khán, and kept him at his side.

WHEN Sultán Yunus Khán reached Moghulistán, Omar Shaikh Mirzá sent an official [dárugha] to Ush to replace Muhammad Haidar. The [last-named] Mirzá and his men were not capable of marching into Moghulistán, and it was also impossible for them to remain in Ush. He placed his two sons, Muhammad Husain Mirzá and Sayyid Muhammad Mirzá, under the care of Omar Shaikh Mirzá, and himself set out for Káshghar, thinking that as Mirzá Abá Bakr was his brother's son and his own wife's son, he would go to him and would offer him terms of peace. Under such illusions he approached Mirzá Abá Bakr, who immediately seized him and threw him into prison, where he remained one year. At the end of a year he was sent to Badakhshán, which was at that time ruled by Mirzá Sultán Mahmud, son of Mirzá Sultán Abu Said. Abdul Kudus, who was the son-in-law of Muhammad Haidar Mirzá (and who has been spoken of already), was at this time with Mirzá Sultán Mahmud. He [Muhammad Haidar Mirzá] was entertained for a short time as the guest of the Sultán; he then came to Samarkand and paid his respects to his Holiness Násiruddin Ubaidullah (may God bless his spirit) and waited on Mirzá Sultán Ahmad, who received him in a friendly way, and arranged to come to the Mirzá yearly, on the occasion of two festivals [aid].

Mirzá Sultán Ahmad had three brothers: Osmán Mirzá, Sultán Valad Mirzá, and Talak Muhammad …^112a

In the meanwhile a person came from Yunus Khán to fetch Muhammad Haidar Mirzá. Not feeling in the least fettered by the kindness Sultán Ahmad Mirzá had shown him, he went to the Khán. This matter will be mentioned in connection with the life of the Khán and his entrance into Táshkand.

YUNUS AND THE MOGHUL ULUS ENTER TÁSHKAND; PEACE IS ESTABLISHED BETWEEN SULTÁN AHMAD MIRZÁ AND OMAR SHAIKH MIRZÁ AND SULTÁN MAHMUD KHÁN.

THE story of the quarrels and contests that arose between the two brothers, Omar Shaikh Mirzá and Sultán Ahmad Mirzá, is a long one, and has no place in this history; it has however been given in detail in the history of Mir Khwánd. But it is, nevertheless, necessary to mention in this book, that on the death of Shaikh Jamál Khar, Táshkand passed into the [power and] jurisdiction of Omar Shaikh Mirzá, as did also Sháhrukhia, which has a fortified castle [kalah]. Mirzá Sultán Ahmad became an enemy to Omar Shaikh Mirzá on the subject of these two places, and a fierce dispute arose between them. When the hostility of Mirzá Sultán Ahmad was directed against Táshkand, Omar Shaikh Mirzá desired the Khán [to come and help him] in Táshkand.

The same year that the Khán had left Ush and had given it over to Muhammad Haidar Mirzá, Omar Shaikh Mirzá, after the arrival of the Khán, dismissed Muhammad Haidar Mirzá, who went to Káshghar, where he was thrown into prison. The Khán was then in Moghulistán. When autumn [tirmáh]^112b set in and the hostility of Mirzá Sultán Ahmad was directed against Táshkand, Omar Shaikh Mirzá invited the Khán to [come and help him in] Táshkand. He gave Sairám to the Khán. In the same way that he had given him Ush out of Andiján, so he gave him Sairám out of Táshkand. When the Khán turned towards Sairám, the Moghuls, who could not on any terms put up with towns and cultivated lands, having led astray the Khán's younger son, Sultán Ahmad Khán, fled back to Moghulistán. The Khán did not follow them, for in the family of the Moghul Khákáns there remained no rivals [of the Khán] who were worth considering. So he let the people go back to Moghulistán, while he himself went on to Sairám and there passed the winter.

The Khán also sent his elder son, Sultán Mahmud Khán, against Sultán Ahmad Mirzá, with 30,000 men. From the side of Farghána came Omar Shaikh Mirzá, with an army 15,000 strong. These three armies neared each other, and a desperate conflict was about to ensue, when the news of what was passing reached his Holiness Násiruddin Ubaidullah (may God bless his hidden soul). He at once set out, sending a person in advance to announce that he was coming. When the tidings reached the three Sultáns, they all halted where they were. When his Holiness arrived, he alighted in the camp of Sultán Ahmad Mirzá, and sent messengers to the Khán and to Omar Shaikh Mirzá, begging them to make peace. No one could resist the entreaties of the blessed mind of his Holiness. Such was his spiritual and moral influence, that he calmed these three Pádisháhs, who had each come for some object of his own, with an army in fighting order, and caused them to sit together on one carpet [zalicha],^113a while he sat in their midst and dictated to them conditions of peace, to which they assented. Táshkand was to be made over to Yunus Khán. The two brothers who disputed with each other the possession of Táshkand, were to give up their dispute and concede the place to the Khán.

His Holiness Mauláná and Sayyid Ná Mahdumi Mauláná Muhammad Kázi (upon whom be mercy and forgiveness) has written in the appendix [zail] to his “Salsalat ul Arifin,” that this occurrence is among the miracles of his Holiness [i.e. of Násiruddin Ubaidullah]. It is related there: “the meeting was so solemn that, in the intensity of my emotion [dahasht] I overturned the table-cloth [dastár khwán]; when the meeting was terminated his Holiness said: ‘It is well, I must now retire, for I am an old man and can only bear a certain amount of fatigue.’

“The three kings returned, each one, to his own army. His Holiness departed in the direction of the river of Khojand and performed his ablutions [vazu] at the waterside. Turning to me he said: ‘Mauláná Muhammad can write an account of my deed.’ His Holiness the Mauláná says that this was his reason for undertaking the composition of his book—the Salsalat ul Arifin.

“In short, Sultán Ahmad Mirzá repaired to Samarkand, Omar Shaikh Mirzá to Farghána, and Sultán Mahmud Khán to Táshkand. Yunus Khán also went to Táshkand, and his Holiness, following him, met him again there. I [Muhammad Kázi] have heard from my uncle, that one day in the assembly of his Holiness [Násiruddin Ubaidullah] the conversation turned upon Sultán Mahmud Khán, and one of those present said: ‘It is strange how proud this prince is of his own grandeur.’ His Holiness replied: ‘Proud as the Pádisháh may be, I will make him fill his skirt with earth [khák]; glory and grandeur belong to God alone. Hence how can even Sultán Mahmud Khán be proud.’ It chanced that at that very moment the Khán came to pay his respects to his Holiness. It was prayer time, and his Holiness had risen for prayer. When prayers were about to begin, a censer was noticed in which were some embers. His Holiness said: ‘Embers and censers, while prayer is proceeding, are abhorrent. Therefore the fire must be extinguished with some earth.’ In spite of the number of people present, the Khán sprang up and, going outside, filled his skirt with earth, which having brought in, he sprinkled on the fire; this he repeated several times, until the fire was extinguished. And he begged of those present that they would allow him to perform, quite alone, this service of fetching the earth. After the Khán's departure all the companions of his Holiness expressed great wonder.”

This peace and meeting of the Kháns in Táshkand took place in 890. His Holiness remained for a while in Táshkand and then returned to Samarkand. It was the practice of all the princes of that time, to employ one of the disciples of his Holiness as a medium of communication with him. Sultán Mahmud Khán employed for this purpose Mauláná Kázi. About this matter I have heard many anecdotes, which, please God, I will give in their proper place.

THE Khán, being firmly established in Táshkand, begged the daughter of Sultán Ahmad Mirzá—Karáguz Begum—in marriage for his son Sultán Mahmud Khán. The arrival of Karáguz Begum will be mentioned hereafter. But in the interim Sultán Yunus Khán was seized with paralysis, was bedridden for nearly two years, and died, suffering, at the age of seventy-four. No other Chaghatái Khákán ever reached such an advanced age: most of them, indeed, died before they reached the age of forty. The Khán was born in 818 and died in 892. He was buried near the tomb of Puránvár Shaikh, Kháwand-i-Tuhur [Master of Purification], in Táshkand; and a large mausoleum was built over the spot, which stands to this day and is very renowned.

During his illness, the Khán heard that Muhammad Haidar Mirzá had gone from Badakhshán to Samarkand, so he sent to summon the Mirzá to him. Muhammad Haidar Mirzá left Samar-kand, came to the Khán, and waited on him throughout his illness. He was a skilled surgeon and physician. The Khán, during this period, would not allow Muhammad Haidar Mirzá out of his presence for one hour; and he treated the Mirzá's children with hospitality. The Mirzá's son, Muhammad Husain Mirzá, who had remained with Omar Shaikh Mirzá, had gone to Sultán Mahmud Khán in Andiján, before Muhammad Haidar Mirzá had come [to attend on the Khán]. He lived always in the same house and room as the Khán, as shall be related below.

SULTÁN YUNUS KHÁN died in the year 892, and in the course of the same year, Sultán Mahmud Khán was raised to the Khánate with Moghul rites. When the news of the death of Yunus Khan got abroad, Mirzá Omar Shaikh and Mirzá Sultán Ahmad became intent on renewing hostilities with one another. Omar Shaikh Mirzá sent a large number of his staunchest and most trustworthy followers to occupy the fort of Ushtur in Táshkand, which was an impregnable stronghold. Sultán Mahmud Khán led his forces, in person, against that fort. A fierce battle took place; so fierce, indeed, that it is still talked of among the Moghuls. The castle was taken by assault, and all the faithful adherents of Mirzá Omar Shaikh were put to death; no one escaped: they all died fighting. From this victory great strength accrued to the Khán, while the Mirzá lost all power of opposition.

The year following, Sultán Ahmad Mirzá's Amirs impressed upon him that he had given up Táshkand to the Khán without proper cause, and that the longer the Khán's people remained there, the more annoying it was to them. His Holiness sent word to say that he was mistaken, and that he ought to make peace with the Khán, who would do him no injury: why should he annoy him? Finally, however, the Mirzá collected an army 150,000 strong, and led it against Táshkand. The Khán passed through the suburbs of Táshkand and stood facing [the advancing enemy]. Between them flowed a stream which it was impossible to cross. The armies remained there during three days. In the army of the Sultán was a certain Sháhi Beg Khán, the son of Sháh Badágh Oghlán, the son of Abulkhair Khán. After the death of Buruj Oghlán (which has been described above)^116a Sháhi Beg Khán underwent many hardships (as we are told in histories). Finally, as he was not able to hold his own in the steppes, he betook himself to Mávará-un-Nahr, and became a follower of Sultán Ahmad Mirzá, or rather he became a retainer of one of the Sultán's Amirs. He was in this army, and had 3000 followers. When Mirzá Sultán Ahmad had remained three days [on the bank of the river], Sháhi Beg Khán sent to Sultán Mahmud Khán to ask if he would meet and confer with him. That same night they met: he from the one side and the Khán from the other; and they agreed that on the morrow the Khán should attack Mir Abdul Ali, the master of Sháhi Beg Khán, who, on his part, undertook to throw the army into disorder, and then to take flight.

On the next day the Moghul army was drawn up in battle array, and the infantry passed the Chir; the cavalry also entered the stream, when the infantry of the other side began the battle. The Moghul army directed its force against Mir Abdul Ali. At this moment Sháhi Beg Khán turned and fled with his 3000 men, and throwing himself on the baggage [partal] of the army, began to plunder the Moghuls. In fact, wherever this disordered rabble found themselves, their device was to fall upon the baggage, so that the army of Mirzá Sultán Ahmad was put to flight. But the river Chir, which the people of Táshkand call Parak, was in front of them, and most of his soldiers were drowned in it. The troops of the Mirzá suffered a severe defeat, while he, discomfited and beaten, fled to Samarkand. He proffered many excuses and apologies to his Holiness, who again arranged a peace between the Khán and Sultán Ahmad Mirzá. The discussion about Karáguz Begum was resumed, and after various formalities had been gone through, they brought Karáguz Begum to the Khán. This victory did much to raise the Khán in the estimation of the surrounding Sultáns, who henceforward stood in great fear of him, and thus his position became secure.

MY father Muhammad Husain Kurkán, (may God illumine his proof) from the time of his quitting Káshghar to this date, had always been in the service of Sultán Mahmud Khán, except for the two years that he spent with Omar Shaikh Mirzá (all of which has been related above). The Khán was on such close and friendly terms with my father, that they always lived in the same room; their houses adjoined, and they confided household matters to each other.

When anything was brought for the Khán, something like it was also brought for my father. When the Khán went out riding, two horses would be brought, one of which my father would mount and the Khán the other. Whenever the Khán put on a new robe, another like it used to be found for my father. Thus, in no matter was any distinction made between them. Till the time when the Khán married Karáguz Begum, he spent most of the day in the common apartment [hajra-i-máhud], and in the evening would go into his haram, whilst my father remained in the outer chamber. When the Khán was seated on his throne, they used to place a carpet in front of it, so that my father might sit down and lean against the throne; thus the two used always to arrange [the affairs of the State] together. Sometimes the Khán used to say to my father, apologising the while: “I am obliged by family affairs to retire to the haram, while you remain in the outer apartment; this makes you appear like a palace guard [yátish], and is inconsistent with terms of friendship and concord.”

A year passed in this way, when the Khán contracted an alliance with the Kurkáni, in the person of Khub Nigár Khánim, who was his senior by one year. She was the third daughter of Yunus Khán, by Isán Daulat Begum; and her eldest daughter was Mihr Nigár Khánim, who had been given in marriage to Sultán Ahmad Mirzá (of whom I have spoken at greater length in the Second Part). The second daughter was Kutluk Nigár Khánim, whom Omar Shaikh Mirzá took to wife; and their children were Zahir-ud-Din Muhammad Bábar Pádisháh, and Khánzáda Begum, of whom I shall speak below. The third daughter was this Khub Nigár Khánim, who was given in marriage to my father, and is my mother. I will give a record of them in their proper place, in Part II. Sultán Yunus Khán had two other daughters by Sháh Begum Badakhshi: the elder, Sultán Nigár Khánim, was sent to Sultán Mahmud Mirzá in Hisár, who had children by her, as is mentioned in the Second Part. The younger was Daulat Sultán Khánim, also mentioned in the Second Part.

In short, the Khán apologised, saying: “It is not reasonable that I should always go into the haram at nights, and leave you here in the palace, as if on guard. It is not worthy of our friendship.” On this account he gave orders for the preparation of festivities, and showed [his friend] every mark of sympathy and regard. During two years the preparations continued. Then he gave Khub Nigár Khánim in marriage to my father. In the meanwhile Mirzá Sultán Ahmad, Omar Shaikh Mirzá, and Sultán Mahmud Mirzá died, as shall be presently related.

Urátupa^118a was included in the administration of the Khán, who granted that country to my father; he established himself there, and extended its limits over some of the bordering districts, all of which is related in Part II.

BEFORE the Khán made peace with Sultán Ahmad Mirzá and married Karáguz Begum, he captured Táshkand. He seized and threw into prison Muhammad Mazid Tarkhán, who had been appointed Governor of Turkistán by Mirzá Sultán Ahmad; and this Muhammad Mazid Tarkhán was one of the principal causes of the peace, for he was a relation, on the mother's side [tághá], of Mirzá Sultán Ahmad. When the Khán conquered Turkistán, he had in his service Sháhi Beg Khán. As a reward for the services he rendered in the battle of the Chir (which has been described above), the Khán made over Turkistán to him; and on this account disagreement arose between the sons of Karái Khán and Jáni Beg Khán (of the Kazák) and Sultán Mahmud Khán, who had previously been on terms of friendship. [They complained, saying:] “Sháhi Beg Khán is our enemy; why did you send him to oppress us in Turkistán?” In a word, in consequence of this quarrel, between Sultán Mahmud Khán and the Uzbeg Kazák,^119a two battles took place, the Khán suffering defeat on both occasions. The cause of these defeats was that the most distinguished of his generals had left Yunus Khán. For the Khán had, in common with all who succeed to power, the defect of not knowing the value of men of worth, and [of imagining] that whomsoever they favour becomes, for that reason, a valuable man, which is, of course, impossible.

However, in conformity with these pernicious principles, the Khán patronised some of the lowest of his people, who were continually engaged in trying to decry the old and influential Amirs. This they carried so far as to induce the Khán to put to death five of the great Amirs, each of whom was the head of a department [sar daftar], and to extirpate their families; while in their places, five of those base-born men were set up. At the time when the difference arose between Sultán Mahmud Khán and the Uzbeg Kazák, on account of Sháhi Beg Khán, and a war ensued, these five base-born men were generals: hence the defeat. That dread and esteem of the Khán, which by the successful efforts of the five Amirs, had taken possession of the hearts of the neighbouring Sultáns, had now disappeared. In the meantime Omar Shaikh Mirzá was killed by a house falling on him: this was in the year 899. When this news reached Sultán Ahmad Mirzá, he set out with an army against Andiján, to prevent it falling into the hands of the Moghuls. The Amirs of Omar Shaikh Mirzá behaved bravely, and raised his son, Zahir-ud-Din Muhammad Bábar Pádisháh, who was then twelve years of age, to the throne: they also applied to Sultán Mahmud Khán for assistance. When Sultán Ahmad Mirzá reached Marghilán he fell ill, and so made terms of peace and turned back; but he died on the road, just forty days after the death of Omar Shaikh Mirzá. Sultán Mahmud Mirzá came from Hisár, and set himself up on the throne of Samarkand in his brother's stead. He reigned six months; he then died a natural death, and was succeeded by his son Mirzá Baisanghar.

Sultán Mahmud Khán coveted the throne of Samarkand. He marched towards that town and met Baisanghar in battle, at a place called Kámyái. As the generals were the [above mentioned] base-born persons, the enterprise failed and the Khán was defeated. This was a very famous battle, and its date is as celebrated with the Moghuls as among the people of Samarkand. The Khán then returned to Táshkand, when these same low-born men persuaded him that it was fitting for them to support Sháhi Beg Khán, in order that he might take Samarkand and Bokhárá, and bear all the duties of the State, while they themselves remained at their ease in Táshkand. This appeared reasonable to the Khán. Much as my father condemned this advice and used his influence over the Khán, he was in no way able to prevent the latter helping and supporting Sháhi Beg Khán, till he had taken Samarkand and Bokhárá. This needs a detailed account, which will be given in Part II. along with incidents in the life of Bábar Pádisháh.

In a word, with this assistance, Sháhi Beg Khán took Samarkand, and obtained complete control over it. His army increased to 50,000 men; and Uzbegs from on all sides flocked round him. His first attack was directed against the Khán, who began to despair; but much as he and his ignoble advisers might gnaw the hand of vexation with the teeth of regret, they could not help themselves. In the meanwhile Sultán Ahmad Khán, who (as I have mentioned) had remained in Moghulistán, hearing of the Khán's distress, came to his brother's aid, and these two Kháns together, gave battle to Sháhi Beg Khán, but they were defeated. Sháhi Beg Khán, having treated them both with courtesy and respect, sent the Khán into Moghulistán; he, however, kept the Moghul soldiers with him, as will be related in Part II.

The two brothers, Sultán Mahmud Khán and Sultán Ahmad Khán, went to Moghulistán, where Sultán Ahmad Khán died, as shall be presently related. Sultán Mahmud Khán reached Moghul-istán and for some time underwent many hardships there. Finally he presented himself before Sháhi Beg Khán, counting on the favour he had once shown him. But Sháhi Beg Khán said to Sultán Mahmud Khán: “Once I was kind to you, but a second act of mercy would be the cause of the ruin of my kingdom.” He then put to death the Khán and his children, both great and small, on the banks of the river of Khojand. The chronogram “Lab-i-daryá-i-Khojand ” gives the date of the event—914 [1508-9]. The particulars will be given in Part II. of this History. The matter is mentioned briefly here to save repetition.

SULTÁN AHMAD KHÁN was the son of Yunus Khán, who has been mentioned above. When his father used to go and take up quarters in Táshkand, Ahmad, with a number of Moghuls who objected to towns and settlements, parted from his father, and stayed behind in Moghulistán. It would take too long to relate all that he did and [to describe] his administration in Moghulistán; but the substance of the matter is that it required ten years of residence in the country, before he could bring the people fully under his control. He was obliged to suppress some of the Amirs: among others the Irlát, who were powerful chiefs, and had offered him much opposition. A battle ensued in which he overthrew their race; he also put to death Amir Sultán Ali Jarás, who, since the time when the Amirs rose in opposition to Isán Bughá Khán, had never become reconciled to any of the Kháns.

The Káluji were the most numerous of all the tribes in Moghul-istán. At this time, a number of their chiefs joined together, and one night attacked the Khán's camp, killed all whom they found there, and poured a shower of arrows upon the tent of the Khán, who sustained several wounds. At last one of the attacking party entered the tent intending to kill him, but he rose up with drawn sword to meet the man; they dealt each other severe blows, and the intruder fled wounded. After this, several persons, having dismounted, tried, together, to force an entry. Sut Im Bahádur, who was one of the most important men in the Khán's court, at this moment arrived on the scene, and when the assailants saw that somebody was coming, they remounted and attacked him. He was quite alone, but nevertheless, offered them fight, and a considerable time elapsed before they were able to kill Sut Im Bahádur. They then again turned to attack the Khán. Hearing the noise, men came riding up from all directions to the tent of the Khán. At last the Káluji, having no longer power to resist, turned and fled. All these were the intimates of the Khán, and no one suspected them of such [treacherous] intentions. They fled to the Kálmák. As soon as the Khán had recovered from his wounds, he pursued them whither they had gone, but it took him two years to root them out.

After this, the affairs of the Khán became more prosperous, and no one in Moghulistán dared to oppose him. He made several successful inroads on the Kálmák, and put a number of them to death. He fought two battles with Táishi Isán, and was victorious in both. The Kálmák stood in great awe of him, and used to call him Álácha Khán; Álácha, in Moghul, means kushánda [the slayer], that is to say, “the slaying Khán.” This title adhered to him. His own people used to call him Álácha Khán. He is now spoken of by the Moghuls as Sultán Ahmad Khán, but all the neighbouring peoples call him ‘Álácha.’ Also one finds ‘Álácha’ written in the Histories of Mir Khwánd and of Khwánd Mir, of Herat, and others.^121a

After these events, he carried on hostilities with the Uzbeg Kazák, for the reason already stated in the story of Sultán Mahmud Khán. For Sultán Mahmud Khan had, on two occasions, gone to war with the Uzbeg Kazák, and had been defeated on both occasions; on which account Sultán Ahmad Khán attacked the Uzbeg Kazák and utterly routed them three times.

Whatever they had done to his elder brother, Sultán Mahmud Khán, he, in turn, did to them. He, moreover, kept Moghulistán under such strict supervision, that during seven or eight months the Kálmák and Uzbeg were unable to approach the country. When he had satisfactorily disposed of the affairs of Moghulistán, he turned his attention to the question of Abá Bakr and Káshghar. In the year 905 (which is also the year of my birth), when he came to Káshghar, he found that Abá Bakr had gone to Yárkand, leaving Káshghar and Yángi Hisár fortified, garrisoned and stored. The officers of Mirzá Abá Bakr attacked the Khán several times, both in the citadel of Káshghar and at Yángi Hisár, all of which would take too long to relate. At length, Sultán Ahmad Mirzá^122a took the citadel of Yángi Hisár by storm, and after that, Kásh-ghar being deserted by its garrison, who fled, he captured that place also.

He spent that winter in Káshghar, and removed his family thither from Moghulistán. At the end of the winter he marched against Mirzá Abá Bakr, in Yárkand. Mirzá Abá Bakr would not come out of the citadel, and when they [the attacking force] saw that an entry was impracticable, they went up into the hills near Yárkand, to carry off the flocks and plunder [the country]. Then, having taken quantities of cattle and booty, they returned towards Káshghar. But Mirzá Abá Bakr, leading a powerful army out of Yárkand, went and blocked the Khán's road in the mountains. A fierce battle was fought, in which, at length, the Khán's army was put to flight. The defeated Khán then descended to Káshghar, but being unable to remain there, he fled into Moghulistán.

One year after this event, news of the victory gained by Sháhi Beg Khán over Sultán Mahmud Khán reached him. Prompted by brotherly love, he set out to offer his services to his distinguished brother. Leaving his eldest son, Mansur Khán, in his own place, and giving him the style of Khán, he took his two other sons, Sultán Said Khán and Bábáják Khán, with him to Táshkand. The two Kháns met in Táshkand, and exchanged the salutations and formalities usual on such occasions. (An account of this matter is to be found in Part II.) In short, they discussed how they might frustrate the plans of Sháhi Beg Khán, and finally a battle took place between the latter and the two Kháns, at Akhsi, in which the two Kháns were defeated, and both of them made prisoners. Sháhi Beg Khán, observing the duties of the situation, permitted them both to return to Moghulistán; but the greater part of the Moghul Ulus he would not allow to depart. These two Kháns went to Moghulistán, passing that winter in Aksu. [There] Sultán Ahmad Khán was attacked with so violent a paralytic seizure, that the doctors were unable to relieve him, and he died in the winter of the year 909 [1503-4]. (May Paradise be his dwelling.)

Sultán Ahmad Khán was a very religious prince and a devoted Musulmán. He was versed in the Holy Law [Shar']^123a and most of his affairs were governed by it. He was a high-minded, though violent, man and was distinguished for his daring. He was intelligent, of sound judgment and modest. He was especially affable towards darvishes, and towards learned and pious men. During most of his life he granted pensions to the poor, and gave away one-fifth of his income in charity. In his beneficence and virtuous habits he had, in his time, no rival. He died at the age of thirty-nine.

More will be said of him in the Second Part.

HE was the eldest son of Sultán Ahmad Khán, who, when he went to join his brother Sultán Mahmud Khán in Táshkand, set up Mansur, as Khán, in his own stead. This was in the year 909, when Mansur Khán was nineteen years of age. At his father's death, his uncle, Sultán Mahmud Khán, left Aksu and came into Moghulistán. Mansur Khán then established his court in Aksu, where a dispute arose between himself and Mir Jabár Birdi, such as is wont to arise between rival heirs; and Mir Jabár Birdi's life became imperilled. The only means he could devise for saving himself, was to send off a messenger to Mirzá Abá Bakr [to ask him to come to his aid]. This was exactly what the Mirzá would have prayed God for; so he set out for Aksu with an army of 30,000 men. Mir Jabár Birdi hastened out to receive Mirzá Abá Bakr. The advance-guard and scouts of the Mirzá's army were in readiness.

When news of this reached Mansur Khán, he fortified Aksu, and, leaving a garrison in its fort, repaired to Bái and Kusan.^124a Mir Jabár Birdi, as a mark of confidence, delivered over to Mirzá Abá Bakr the fort of Uch, which was his own residence and domain. They entered Aksu together, took the fort by storm, and laid hands on all the treasure and hidden wealth which Sultán Ahmad and his people had amassed during twenty-five years. This, together with the people of Aksu, both Moghul and peasant [ráyat],^124b they despatched to Káshghar, Mir Jabár Birdi sending his own family in front of all the rest, to prove his entire trust in Mirzá Abá Bakr: for he looked upon a show of confidence as his source of safety. Mirzá Abá Bakr asked him if that were his family. He replied: “There might be difficulties in the way of taking them in the rear of the party, so they can go now. I will stay here a few days to pillage and plunder the surrounding neighbourhood; then I will load your army with booty, and will bring back both the booty and the army to you, in Káshghar.’

The Mirzá was pleased with this boast of Mir Jabár Birdi, whose family he took, with the rest of the people of Aksu, to Káshghar; while he left, with the Mir, an army of 10,000 men, who were to bring on whatever had been left behind.

Mir Jabár Birdi led the Mirzá's army against Bái and Kusan, making several raids into those territories, and carrying off the horses. When he calculated that the Mirzá had arrived in Káshghar, he abandoned the army of the Mirzá, which, frustrated and disappointed, returned to Káshghar, while Mir Jabár Birdi remained in the province of Aksu.

These events were disastrous to Mansur Khán, and his position became very weak. He repented of having persecuted [attempted to take the life of] Mir Jabár Birdi, who was his maternal uncle, the brother of his mother Sáhib Daulat Begum. In the meantime, news of Mir Jabár Birdi reached him. He thereupon sent messengers to him, offering apologies. Having made a covenant with him, he brought him back and bestowed upon him even greater favours than his father, Sultán Ahmad Khán, had done before him.

After the return of Mir Jabár Birdi to the court of Mansur Khán, the affairs of the latter assumed a more favourable aspect. At that time the people of the different tribes were engaged in hostilities with one another, and these, as far as was possible, he pacified. This is a long story, and I do not recall further details. In short, while these things were passing, news arrived of the discord, in Moghulistán, between Sultán Mahmud Khán and Sultán Said Khán and Sultán Khalil Sultán. Thereupon Mansur Khán entered Moghulistán, and again met his paternal uncle Sultán Mahmud Khán. At this audience he also met Sultán Said Khán and Sultán Khalil Sultán, who were his younger brothers.

After this division had occurred, Sultán Mahmud Khán was no longer able to remain in Moghulistán, being incapable of directing his affairs there: so he repaired to Mávará-un-Nahr (as has been told) and was there slain.

When Mansur Khán heard of Sultán Mahmud Khán's expedition into the [viláyat] country [of Mávárá-un-Nahr], he marched against his brothers, who were in Moghulistán with the Kirghiz and the rest of the Moghuls, who had stayed behind. On his arrival, a battle took place in Chárun Chálák. The fight was a fierce one, and ultimately Mansur Khán came off victor. The two brothers fled to “the viláyat.”^125a On reaching Andiján, the governor of that place put Sultán Khalil Sultán to death: but his brother, Sultán Said Khán, escaped to Kábul; all of which is related in Part II.

Mansur Khán carried off to Chálish^125b and Turfán, all those of the Kirghiz, and other Moghul tribes, whom he found in Moghul-istán. As the Kirghiz were the originators of all the revolts in Moghulistán, he put most of them to death by stratagem. A few of them, however, fled to Moghulistán. After this he made inroads on the Kálmák and was, as a rule, victorious. Thus the affairs of the Khán prospered; though from time to time, he met with opposition from the side of his brothers. One of them, Aiman Khwája Sultán, twice rose against him and was twice subdued, without more being said; however, on the occasion of his revolting a third time, he was seized and handed over to Yáráka Atáka, who received orders to put him to death. But instead of obeying, he hid Aiman Khwája Sultán, telling the Khán that he had carried out his commission. A year after this, Bábáják Sultán, another brother of the Khán, fled from him, and betook himself to Bái and Kusan.

These two places, since their destruction [virán] by Mirzá Abá Bakr and Jabár Birdi, had fallen into desolation and ruin. But Bábáják came and cultivated the ground, and restored the fort which had been destroyed. Then Mansur Khán came against Bábáják Sultán, and in the first place, tried to bring him to terms of peace, but Bábáják said: “How can I put any trust in you? Aiman Khwája Sultán was also your brother, and you slew him like an enemy: I have no longer any faith in you.” Then Mansur Khán repented of having killed Aiman Khwája Sultán, and could make no reply. But Yáráka Atáka interposed: “I had the presumption to act in opposition to your orders, and kept your brother alive.” Mansur Khán was very grateful, and on account of this action, raised Yáráka Atáka to a very high rank. He then sent Aiman Khwája Sultán to Bábáják Sultán, who thereupon came and offered submission to the Khán, and made terms of peace.

In the meanwhile, news arrived of the victory Sultán Said Khán had obtained over Mirzá Abá Bakr, and of his conquest of Káshghar. Bábáják Sultán sent Aiman Khwája Sultán to Said Khán, who was rejoiced at his coming. (Bábáják Sultán and Mansur Khán were born of the same mother; as were also Sultán Said Khán and Aiman Khwája Khán.) This is related more fully in Part II.

Mansur Khán stood in great fear of Sultán Said Khán, because he had been the cause of the death of Sultán Said Khán's own brother, Sultán Khalil, and many violent disputes arose between them. Mansur Khán was convinced that this would cause an eternal enmity between them, but contrary to his expectations, Sultán Said Khán sent an ambassador, with an escort, to his elder brother Mansur Khán, and begged for an interview. The meeting took place between Aksu and Kusan in the year 912,^126a in which Sultán Said Khán declared his submission and obedience to Mansur Khán, and ordered the Khutba to be read in the latter's name; thus a complete reconciliation was brought about between the two brothers, as a result of which their countries, during a period of twenty years, enjoyed the most perfect peace and security. Any one, for example, could travel alone from Kámul,^126b in Khitái, to Andiján, without having any duties levied upon him; and would be taken every night, as a guest, into some house [on the road]. May God place these two just and righteous brothers in the Garden of Paradise!

During these twenty years, Mansur Khán made several holy wars against Khitái, and always returned mansur [victorious].^127a In one of these holy wars, Mir Jabár Birdi met his death, as did also Bandagi Khwája Tájuddin Muhammad. This latter was one of the Khwájas of Kusan, and was descended from Mauláná Arshad-ud-Din, who converted the Moghuls to Islám, as has been already related. He made his studies under Mauláná Ali Gharrán of Tus (upon whom be mercy), and also spent much time in the company of that Axis of Axes, Khwája Nasiruddin Ubaidullah, and participated in the benevolent glance of his Holiness

I once heard from the lips of Khwája Tájuddin the following: “I was one day visiting his Holiness, and was seated near him, when he remarked that it was necessary to abstain from ‘doubtful morsels.’ I looked round the company, and saw they were all men of piety; I was the only one present who was not an abstainer [an ascetic], and I took an oath that, from that time forward, I would eat no food that was not pronounced absolutely lawful by him. So have me excused if I touch not any food at your table.” I have mentioned this to show what a pious and abstinent man Khwája Tájuddin was. He was in attendance on Sultán Ahmad Khán and Mansur Khán for fifty years, or rather these Kháns were his disciples. And he accepted, during all this period, neither offering nor gift, whether it were from the Kháns or the Sultáns or the generals of the army, or from peasants or merchants. The Khwája occupied himself, also, with commerce and agriculture. And from these occupations there accrued to him, by the blessing of the Most High God, great wealth. And what urbanity did he not show, every year, towards the Kháns and the Amirs! The poor and indigent—nay, more, the peasant, the villager, the artisan, and the merchant, all profited [by his wealth]. For this reason no one denied him anything, and all the affairs of the kingdom were laid before him in detail. He was, in very truth, a great and loving— a generous and zealous man.

In one of the holy wars against Khitái, he was slain before Mansur Khán's eyes. (May God's mercy be upon him.) When Mansur Khán had disposed of these holy wars in Khitái, he fought a pitched battle with the Uzbeg Kazák at a place in Moghulistán called Arish,^127b where he was defeated; and Sufi Mirzá, who was a Begjik and the chief minister of the Khán, was killed. After this event [Mansur] made fewer expeditions from Chálish and Turfán.

Subsequent to the death of Sultán Said Khán, he marched against Aksu. Twice he failed and was obliged to retire, and in the year 950 he died (may God illumine his proof!) at the age of about sixty years. Except Yunus Khán, no other Khán of the Chaghatái line attained such an age. He ascended the throne,^128a in the year 907, at the age of sixteen, and reigned forty-three years. No other Chaghatái Khán ever reigned as long as this. Nor did any of the Moghul Kháns enjoy so long a life and reign. He adorned his days from the first to the last with blessings and charitable gifts. He passed the whole of his time in the study of the holy law, or the reading of the Korán. I have heard from his intimates that he used to spend about one-fifth of his time in directing the affairs of the State, and all the rest in perusal of the Korán [tilavat],^128b prayer [davat], the prescribed prayers [namáz], and in reciting the names of God [Izkár]. It would be hard to find any one among the Pádisháhs, or even among the most pious men [ahl-i-suluk], who disposed of their time better than he did. And in consequence of this he was blessed with a long life and earthly happiness, such as no one but he, of his line, has ever enjoyed. May God bless his heavenly life as he did his days upon earth! Amen. Oh God of both worlds!

He excelled in the conduct of life, in intelligence and prudence, and was skilled in state management and the control and organisation of armies. By his nature he was not at all addicted to the customs and ceremonies of kings, or to the grandeur and magnificence of Kháns, but rather tried to do without ceremony, and to live as simply as possible. In no way whatever did he make any distinction between himself and the rest of his people. He knew the Korán by heart, and had a very accurate Reader, who was better versed in the Korán than any one else in the country. His name was “Háfiz Magas-i-sag.”^128c But in his innermost nature, this man was so unbalanced and his acts were so revolting, that to mention them would be a reason for withdrawing behind a curtain! It was under this man that Mansur Khan learnt by heart the Kalám-Ullah. Some of his officers one day suggested, in private, to the Khán that Háfiz Magas was not worthy to be his teacher, seeing that his mind was totally unsound…^129a Thus it is evident that Mansur Khán was a religiously inclined monarch. He spent the whole of his life in the practice of Islám.

He left behind him two sons, Sháh Khán and Muhammad Sultán, and one daughter, whom Sultán Said Khán took for his son Rashid Sultán, as is mentioned in Part II.

AT the end of his life, Mansur Khán had raised his eldest son Sháh Khán to the throne, while he himself withdrew to the cell of retirement. His son succeeded to all his authority, and is at this day— 952 [1545]—the reigning Khán in Turfán and Chálish. But in his treatment of his father's adherents, in his direction of the Khánate, and in his regal proceedings, he has adopted displeasing ways, and has become notorious for his bad manners, of which it is unnecessary for me to speak. Even while his father was yet alive, he had stained the garments of good reputation with the pollution of disobedience, and he does not now regard the memory of his distinguished father in the way that is becoming and fit; nor has he shown such signs of piety and prosperity as would be worthy of his good father.

It is the practice of historians to recount everything as they find it, whether worthy or unworthy of mention. For it is not their object to write down the good qualities of princes, and to omit all their bad actions, but rather to reproduce all facts without discrimination, in order that they may leave behind them a record of the people of this world. Thus all men in power, as well as others, reading their histories, may profit by their advice, and may see what have been the various fruits and results of praiseworthy habits, on the one hand, or blameable actions on the other: also that they may accept the lesson to be learnt from observing the way in which the memory of different princes has been preserved, and may, in short, incline to good deeds and avoid evil ways.

SULTÁN AHMAD KHÁN had eighteen sons. The eldest was Mansur Khán, of whom I have just spoken. Next to him came Iskandar Sultán, who died a natural death, after his father. Then came Sultán Said Khan, who was fourteen years of age when Sultán Ahmad Khán went to [the assistance of] his elder brother, Sultán Mahmud Khán. He had taken with him, on this occasion, two of his sons: namely Sultán Said Khán and Bábáják Sultán.

While the two Kháns were together, Sultán Said Khán passed his days in the cell of instruction of my father, and under the kindly protection of my uncle. [This lasted] up to the time of the battle at Akhsi, between the two Kháns and Sháhi Beg Khán (which has been mentioned). In the flight which ensued, Sultán Said Khán was struck by an arrow in the thigh, and the bone was broken: so he threw himself onto a side path.^130a After the flight and rout had subsided, some of the people of that district found him, but as his leg was broken, they did not remove him from where he lay. After a few days had passed, and he was almost recovered, they took him before Shaikh Báyazid, Governor of Akhsi. An account of Shaikh Báyazid and of his brother, Sultán Ahmad Tambal, will be found in Part II. Shaikh Báyazid kept Sultán Said Khán in prison.

In the year following, when the corn was high, Sháhi Beg Khan again came against Farghána and Sultán Ahmad Tambal. Sultán Ahmad Tambal and Shaikh Báyazid, together with all their brothers, were put to death by Sháhi Beg Khán, who then possessed himself of Farghána. Sultán Said Khán, who was in prison, by the order of Shaikh Báyazid, was now released and conducted before Sháhi Beg Khán, who treated him as his own son, and being moved to pity at his sad condition, took him to Samarkand. From there he took him on his campaign against Hisár and Kunduz, at the time when Khusrau Sháh had just subjugated the provinces of Hisár, Kunduz, and Badakhshán. When he had brought this enterprise to a close, he again returned to Samarkand. He next invaded Khwárizm. But on the occasion of this expedition, the Khán fled from him and came into Moghulistán. He journeyed by way of Uzun Ahmad as far as Yatikand.^130b His uncle, Sultán Mahmud Khán, was at that time in Yatikand; with him he passed a few days, but finally, being wearied with the careless way in which his uncle conducted the affairs of the State, he departed and went into Moghulistán to visit his brother, Sultán Khalil Sultán, who was governor of the Kirghiz.

He remained four years with his brother, among the Kirghiz in Moghulistán. During this period many transactions took place between Sultán Mahmud Khan, Mansur Khán, and these two brothers. The result of these proceedings was that Sultán Mahmud Khán found, on account [of the opposition] of his nephews, that he could no longer remain in Moghulistán. So he went to seek Sháhi Beg Khán, in hopes of kind treatment. But Sháhi Beg Khán, as has been related, put him to death on the river of Khojand. When Sultán Mahmud Khán went abroad [to viláyat] to visit Sháhi Beg Khán, these two brothers remained in Moghul-istán and the Kirghiz country. In the meanwhile, news of the approach of Mansur Khán's army reached them. For Mansur Khán had led out an army from Chálish and Turfán against his brothers, in order to seize the land of the Khirghiz and Moghulistán. So Sultán Said Khán and Sultán Khalil, having collected all the [fighting] men of the Kirghiz and the Moghuls, took up a strong position at a place called Charun Chák,^131a ready to receive the enemy. On the arrival of Mansur with his army, the signal for battle was given, and finally Sultán Said Khán and Sultán Khalil Sultán were defeated. Mansur Khán made the Kirghiz march into Chálish, as has been mentioned in the account of Mansur Khán. Sultán Khalil Sultán escaped from the fight with a considerable number of men, and came to Farghána, [hoping] to fall in with his uncle Sultán Mahmud Khán, and to be kindly treated by Sháhi Beg Khán. But when he reached Akhsi he was put to death by Jáni Beg Khán, a cousin of Sháhi Beg Khán, and governor of the country of Farghána.

Sultán Said Khán, for some time after the battle, took to robbery, but events soon came about which rendered impossible for him further sojourn in Moghulistán. (These events are described in Part II. To avoid repetition they have only been given in epitome here.) In this state of hopelessness Sultán Said Khán went to Andiján, and thence to Kábul, to visit his (paternal) cousin Bábar Pádisháh, the son of Omar Shaikh Mirzá, who received him with honour and kindness, and with whom he stayed for three years at Kábul.

When Sháh Ismáil [defeated and] slew Sháhi Beg Khán in Marv, Bábar Pádisháh moved from Kábul to Kunduz, taking Sultán Said Khán with him. At this same time Sayyid Muhammad Mirzá, son of Muhammad Haidar Mirzá, and uncle of the author of this history, invaded Andiján and, driving Jáni Beg Sultán out, became himself master of the country. He then sent messengers to inform Bábar Pádisháh of what he had achieved. Bábar Pádisháh thereupon sent Sultán Said Khán and what Moghul Amirs he had in his service, to Andiján. On his arrival there, Sultán Said Khán was received with ceremony by his uncle Sayyid Muhammad Mirzá, who also delivered over to him the whole of the territory which he had just subjugated. The Khán showed my uncle every mark of honour, and according to the ancient Moghul custom, conferred upon him the title of Ulusbegi,^132a which became his hereditary office.

Meanwhile Mirzá Abá Bakr, having set his heart upon the kingdom of Farghána, had collected an army in Káshghar, and was on the road to Andiján. The Khán marched out to meet him with an army of 1500 men. The two forces came into contact at a place called Tut-lugh,^132b about two farsákhs from Andiján. By the help of God [that small body] of 1500 men overcame an army 20,000 strong, after a very fierce struggle, and in consequence of this victory the fame of Sultán Said Khán was established among the surrounding Sultáns. The Uzbeg Sultáns from Farghána then began to assemble on the borders of Samarkand and Táshkand. Afterwards, Bábar Pádisháh engaged these Sultáns in a battle at Hisár Shádmán, and was victorious. By this victory he was enabled to rid Mávará-un-Nahr of all the Uzbeg, and he himself mounted the throne of Samarkand. In the month of Rajab of the year 917,^132c the Khán was again firmly established in Andiján. In the early spring [avval bahár] of the same year, the Uzbeg again entered Táshkand. Ubaid Ullah Khán advanced in the direction of Bokhárá, in the neighbourhood of which place he fought a battle with Bábar Pádisháh, who had come out to oppose him. Ubaid Ullah Khán was victorious, and Bábar Pádisháh retired defeated to Samarkand, whence, withdrawing his family and all his belongings, he fled to Hisár. Thus the Uzbeg recovered their ascendency. The Khán remained in Andiján.

Bábar Pádisháh, meanwhile, appealed to Sháh Ismáil for assistance. The latter sent Mir Najm, one of his Amirs, with 60,000 men, to the Pádisháh, who having joined his own troops to these, marched on Samarkand. The Khán, in the meantime, having harassed the Uzbeg in the neighbourhood of Andiján, also marched towards Samarkand, and encountered Suyunj Khwája Khán near Táshkand. All the other Kháns and Sultáns had assembled in Samarkand and Bokhárá to oppose Bábar Pádisháh. But in the battle near Táshkand, between the Khán and Suyunj Khwája Khán, the former had 5000 men and the latter 7000; after a hard fight, the Khán was defeated and fled to Andiján.^133a

Your servant, the author of the present history, having taken leave of Bábar Pádisháh, at the time when he went to join Mir Najm, entered the service of the Khán, who was in Andiján, and had just sustained a defeat at the hands of Suyunj Khwája Khán. In the spring, the Khán went to the court of Kásim Khán, who was ruler of the Dasht-i-Kipchák. At that time his army numbered 300,000 men. Kásim Khán received him with so much respect and honour that the Khán remembered it for years after. On his return from that visit, he distinguished me from among my equals with the connection [musaharat] of Kurkáni. All this is related in Part II.

In the early spring of the year 920 all the great Uzbeg Sultáns, with a very numerous army of warriors, advanced against Andiján. The Khán, not deeming it wise to offer fight, retired into Moghulistán before the foreign army reached Farghána. When he arrived at Yatikand they held a council of war, and acting on the timely advice and persuasion of my uncle Sayyid Muhammad Mirzá (who was brother to Mirzá Abá Bakr), they marched towards Káshghar, where a terrible battle was fought, in which the army of that place was routed and obliged to retire within the fort of Káshghar. The Khán then marched on Yángi Hisár, which he besieged for three months. At length the inhabitants entered into a capitulation with my uncle, and delivered up the fort.

On this news reaching Káshghar, the army that was in that town abandoned it. When the fugitives joined Mirzá Abá Bakr in Yárkand, he too resolved on flight, and took the road to Khotan. The Khán pursued him to Yárkand, and then sent on troops after him, as far as the mountains of Tibet. Much booty in the shape of cloths, goods, cattle and horses fell into the hands of the Moghul army (as is described in the Second Part).

The accession of the Khán to the kingdom of Káshghar was in Rajab of the year 920.^133b At the end of that winter Aiman Khwája Sultán, who was brother to the Khán, by the same father and mother, came from Turfán, as has been stated above. He instigated and encourged his Amirs in the matter of the extermination of Mansur Khán, explaining to them the decline of the Khán's power, and dwelling on the enmity that had existed in Moghulistán, in times past, towards the Khán. But the Khán said: “He is the elder brother; in former times I did not pay him due respect, and consequently he punished me. I ought on this account to bear him no enmity. The most fitting thing for me to do, is to apologise to him for my shortcomings, and offer him reparation for the past.” He then sent ambassadors bearing words of peace and submission. At this message, Mansur Khán, whose soul had come to his lips, from fear and foreboding, now received new life and joy without bounds. He came in fear and trembling to the conference [mulákát], which was held between Aksu and Kusan. The Khán showed him great honour, and agreed to read the Khutba and strike coins in his name. And all the ill-feeling that he had formerly borne Mansur Khán, he now changed to brotherly affection and obedience. From this peace and reconciliation between the two brothers, resulted such security and prosperity for the people, that any one might travel alone between Kámul or Khitái and the country of Farghána, without provision for the journey and without fear of molestation. Some ingenious person, to commemorate this peace, invented the following chronogram, “Du lashkar ba nishát”—that is, 922. [“Two armies in happiness.”]

The next year, when Muhammad Kirghiz had made raids into Turkistán and Farghána, and had plundered the Musulmáns, the Khán, in his desire to protect Islám, looked upon this action as an insult. He therefore set forth to attack Muhammad Kirghiz, whom he seized and threw into prison, where he remained for fifteen years.

In 928 [1522] the Khán took his son Rashid Sultán into Moghul-istán. He subdued the whole of Moghulistán and the Kirghiz, and a number of the people of Moghulistán supported Rashid Sultán. Finally, on account of the superiority of the Mangit,^134a the Uzbeg Kazák, being no longer able to remain in the Dasht-i-Kipchák, came over into Moghulistán, to the number of 200,000 persons. It was impossible to resist them, so Rashid Sultán retired with his men to Káshghar.

Meanwhile the Khán invaded Badakhshán, and conquered half of it, which is, to this day, subject to the government of Káshghar. This is a long story. The disputes that arose out of the claims to its inheritance made by Sháh Begum (who has been mentioned) are related in Part. II. of this History.

The Khán twice invaded Badakhshán, once in the year 925 and again in 936 [1519 and 1529-30]. In the year 934 the Khán sent me, with Rashid Sultán, to Balur, which is a country of infidels [Káfiristán], between Badakhshán and Kashmir,^135a where we conducted successfully a holy war [ghazát], and returned victorious, loaded with booty and covered with glory.

A short time after this, it came about that some malicious and impure devils set up Aiman Khwája Sultán in Aksu. This town, which from the date of the conquest of Mirzá Abá Bakr (909), to the year 913, had been in a state of ruin, was now rebuilt by Aiman Khwája Sultán.

The Khán sent me, together with Rashid Sultán, to Aksu, whence we drove out Aiman Khwája Sultán, and sent him to Káshghar. Then, having set in order his military and civil affairs, I left Rashid Sultán in Aksu and re-entered the service of the Khán. Aiman Sultán was despatched to Hindustán, where he died a natural death. At the end of the year 938 [1532] the Khán made a holy war on the infidel country [Káfiristán] of Tibet,^135b sending me forward in advance of himself. I had taken several of the forts and subdued most of the country of Tibet, by the time the Khán came up with me. The two armies together formed a body of 5000 men, which was a larger number of people than all Tibet could support in winter time. So the Khán saw fit to send me, in company with Iskandar Sultán, to Kashmir, with 4000 men, while he himself proceeded to Balti, which is a province between Tibet and Balur. He spent the winter there, engaged in a holy war, and in the spring returned to Tibet.

I entered Kashmir that winter, and at the end of the season^136a fought a pitched battle with the kings [malik] of the country. Thanks to the Most High God, I came off victorious, and exterminated the whole army of Kashmir and the kings. I might also have subdued the whole of the country, had it not been for some of those malignant persons who, by their words and actions, throw things into disorder, and who rendered the further reduction of the country impossible.^136b Peace was made with the kings of Kashmir, and the daughter of Muhammad Sháh, the Pádisháh of Kashmir, was given in marriage to Iskandar Sultán, while the Khutba was read and the coins struck in the Khán's name. All the wealth of Kashmir, that it was possible to collect, was brought, in the spring following that winter, to the Khán in Tibet. The Khán, on my return, honoured me with every mark of royal benevolence and favour, and sent me to Ursáng, which is the Kibla of Khitái and Tibet,^136c while he himself set out for Káshghar.

At the time of his arrival [in Tibet] he had become very weak and much reduced, from dam-giri,^137a and during the whole period of his sojourn in Tibet he never quite recovered. Nevertheless, he was obliged, under any circumstances, to make the [return] journey. When he reached a spot where dam-giri was prevalent, his pious soul took flight to the regions of the blessed. This was at the close of the year 939.^137b All this is fully related in Part II. of this History.

SULTÁN SAID KHÁN was a noble, happy, and prosperous prince, and was adorned with acquirements and good qualities. He was nearly forty-eight years of age when he went to take up his abode in the dwellings of God's mercy. His conduct of life was irreproachable. His conversation was both graceful and eloquent, whether in Turki or in Persian, and when he showed favour to any one, he used to blush before speaking. He was always gay, open-hearted, generous and affectionate. For example, a certain Maksud Ali had struck the Khán in the left shoulder with an arrow, in some battle; [so severe was the wound] that the Khán suffered from it for two years and nearly died of it. During the time of his suffering, some men captured Maksud Ali, so that the Khán might wreak his vengeance upon him. But when he was brought before the Khán, he treated him kindly, and though he had only one garment by him, gave it him. He also took him into his own society, and made him his companion, saying: “I was vexed, but thou art welcome [nik ámadi],” and they continued good friends the rest of their lives. He performed many similar acts of generosity, several of which will be found recorded in Part II. His liberality reached a high degree of perfection. I was twenty-four years in his service. Such was his munificence that his household supplies were sometimes quite exhausted, and the royal larder was some days so empty, that he would go and take his meals in the haram. For the same reason his expenditure exceeded the revenue of the State.

He was also greatly distinguished for his bravery. I was present at an attack which was led by him in person, and have described it in Part II. Moreover, I never saw his equal as an archer, among all the Moghul, Uzbeg, or Chaghatái Ulus, either before or since. I have myself seen him shoot seven or eight arrows in succession, without missing his mark. When hunting deer, hares, or game birds, he would never fail to hit them with his arrow. And in the battles he fought against the Kirghiz and others in Moghulistán, he became celebrated for the way he discharged his shafts into their midst. Generosity such as his I have seldom seen. On one occasion, an assassin came and sought to take his life, but not finding an opportunity, stole a horse from the Khán's stable and rode off. He was captured on the road, with the horse, and brought back. The prisoner said to the Khán: “I came on a mission [davá], but could find no opportunity of carrying it out, so I said: I will take a horse from the Khán's stables, then I shall at any rate have done something.” The Khán's men all wished to kill him, but the Khán said to me: “Hand him over to your servants that they may take care of him, and do with him whatever you tell them.” When the people had dispersed the Khán said to me: “As a thankoffering to God for having preserved me from that man, give him the horse he stole from me. Then tell your men to let him secretly out of the camp, so that when he returns to his fellows they may not look upon him with contempt. Thus the poor man will, in a measure, have executed his mission.”

Further, I never saw a more accurate reader than the Khán. However faulty the orthography might be, he would read off verse or prose without hesitating, in such a way that listeners might suppose he knew it by heart. He wrote Naskh Tálik excellently, and his spelling in Turki and Persian was faultless. He also composed letters [inshá] well in Turki: other people could only have composed them with great difficulty and application. I have rarely met with such power and capability in writing verse [shir]. He never said poems by heart, but in assemblies and social gatherings, if any collection of odes [diván] that was at hand was opened, and he was given any metre and rhyme, he would extemporise a poem. If he repeated a poem once or twice, everybody could remember it; but he was not pleased if any one made a copy of it.

I have remembered, and here reproduce, some of the extempore poems which the Khán recited in the assemblies. [Turki verses …]

I only once knew him make verses in Persian.^138a

He performed on the 'ud, and the sihtara, and the chártára, and the ghachak, but best of all on the chártára.^139a He had a sound knowledge of bone-cutting, and was skilled in making arrows.

AT this date of 953,^139b Abdur Rashid, the most excellent son of Sultán Said Khán, is on the throne of the Kháns, and I (your most despicable slave), Muhammad Haidar, have inscribed and adorned my history with his glorious name. This book, beginning with an account of Tughluk Timur Khán (who was the first among the Moghul Khákáns to be converted to Islám), down to Sultán Yunus Khan, is compiled from oral tradition and contemporary accounts, when they have not been found contradictory. Conflicting traditions have been omitted, on account of their probable inaccuracy. The history, from Yunus Khán down to the end of the reign of Sultán Said Khán, has been fully treated of in Part II. But in Part I. I have only given this portion of the history in epitome, as it is long, and much repetition would not embellish my work.

As, however, there is no account of Abdur Rashid Khán in Part II., it is fitting to give it in this place.

At the time when the Khán [Sultán Said] was in Moghulistán with his brother Sultán Khalil Sultán, Mansur Khán also entered that country, and a battle was fought between them at Chárun Chálák, in which the two brothers were put to flight. After being routed, they found that they could no longer remain in Moghulistán, so they retired in distress to Andiján, where the Khán was put into confinement. But he managed to escape, and went to Kábul, where his cousin Bábar Pádisháh was. (All of this is related in Part II.) The mother of Abdur Rashid Khán was one of those tribes-people whom his father had married, while they were in his service. She was with the Khán when he was thrown into prison in Andiján, but the malignant Uzbeg had separated her from the Khán, by whom she was seven months with child, of this same Abdur Rashid Khán. When the Khán joined Bábar Pádisháh at Kábul, news reached him that his servant was delivered of a son. The Khán told this news to the Pádisháh, who said to him: “Call this boy Abdur Rashid, because it rhymes with Sultán Said Khán.” And this is the origin of the name of Abdur Rashid, who was his father's successor.

When my uncle, Sayyid Muhammad Mirzá, went to Farghána and attacked the Uzbeg under Jáni Beg Sultán, he cleared the country entirely of Uzbeg impurities, and sent a messenger to the Pádisháh in Kunduz, who brought him back Sultán Said Khán. Abdur Rashid Khán had fallen into the unclean hands of the Uzbeg, but in consequence of these successes, he recovered his liberty and joined his noble father. When my sister, Habiba Sultán Khánish, came from Samarkand, the Khán married her, and entrusted Abdur Rashid Sultán to her care. She reared him with motherly attention and love, and Amir Ghuri Barlás was appointed his governor [Atábeg]. He was at that time three years of age. Two years later Amir Ghuri Barlás died, and according to the Moghul usage, his office was given to his uncle, Ali Mirák Barlás Khán. Thus Ali Mirák Barlás was appointed Atábeg to Abdur Rashid Sultán, and the charge of his education was given to Mauláná Muhammad Shirázi, a learned and noble-minded man, who passed all his valuable life in the service of the Moghul Khákáns. He was chief judge [Sadr-i-Sudur] at the court of Sultán Said Khán, where he exercised great influence.

This Mauláná was in truth the Atábeg of Rashid Sultán, while Ali Mirák Barlás held the office only nominally.

Rashid Sultán was born in the year 915 [1509-10]. In 928, when he was thirteen years of age, the Khán brought him into Moghulistán.

When Khalil Sultán was killed by Jáni Beg Sultán at Akhsi, his son Bábá Sultán was still at the breast, and like Rashid Sultán, was kept a prisoner by Jáni Beg Sultán. At the time when Farghána was subdued, he was brought to the Khán, who came to love this nephew more dearly than he loved his own children. He gave the child in charge to Khwája Ali Bahádur, who had formerly rendered great services to Sultán Said Khán, and appointed the Khwája, Atábeg to Bábá Sultán. The Khwája was a Moghul, and had spent most of his life in Moghulistán; he was very devoted to that country, and was always longing to be there. For this reason he begged the Khán to give Moghulistán and the Kirghiz country to Bábá Sultán, saying that he himself would take [the boy] to Moghulistán, and would arrange the affairs of the Kirghiz and of Moghulistán. The Khán consented to this, and wished to send [them] off. My uncle, since he was father-in-law to Bábá Sultán, did not overstep the bounds of loyalty, but as he disapproved of the plan, he represented [to the Khán] that the Moghuls had an unbounded love for Moghulistán. If Bábá Sultán were once established in that country, all the Moghuls would want to live in Moghulistán; if the Khán forbade the undertaking, Bábá Sultán would be offended; while if he did not forbid it, the departure of the people for Moghulistán would be a source of injury to the Khán; much anxiety would be caused, and the situation would give rise to many difficulties. “But if, [he went on to say] Rashid Sultán takes him there, he is your son, and it can do you no harm for the people to follow him. Even if evil should result, you have only to control him—a course which cannot injure him. Although Rashid Sultán is very young, it is advisable that he should go into Moghulistán.”

No one supported my uncle's opinion. Mirzá Ali Taghái in particular supported the side of Bábá Sultán.

In the meanwhile, Khwája Ali Bahádur died (a natural death), so that the proposal was entirely abandoned, and the Khán's attention was turned to Rashid Sultán, but heated discussions constantly arose concerning that matter. My uncle did his utmost to settle the affairs of Rashid Sultán quietly, and represented [to the Khán] that the right course to take was to release Muhammad Kirghiz from prison, where he had now been for a long time. He should [my uncle said] be brought out; a selection should be made from among the Moghuls who had flocks and herds and were desirous of returning to Moghulistán, and these, accompanied by some of the great Amirs, should all be sent off [to Moghulistán] together.

Finally the Khán approved my uncle's plan, and carried it out as had been suggested.

Having created Mirzá Ali Taghái commander-in-chief, and appointed Muhammad Kirghiz, Amir of the Kirghiz, he sent them away. Just at this time Ali Mirák Barlás died, and was succeeded in the service of Rashid Sultán, by his son Muhammadi bin Ali Mirák Barlás; he also accompanied the expedition.

Finally, at the insistence of my uncle, the Khán gave to Rashid Sultán one-third of all his regal possessions, whether in men, soldiers, money, tents, or felt dwellings [khargáh], and despatched him into Moghulistán. On the day of the departure of Rashid Sultán, [the Khán] sent to the haram for all his accoutrements, and said to me: “Fasten on his sword and quiver for him, and help him to mount his horse; it may be a good omen, and in the art of war he shall be your pupil.” I performed this service, and the Khán himself, having stood up, repeated several times the Fátiha,^142a and then said: “Do not forget that it was Mirzá Haidar who first fastened on your sword for you, and that you are his pupil; should any one ask you, whose pupil are you in the art of war, what answer will you make?” Rashid Sultán replied: “[I shall say] that I am the pupil of such a one.” The Khán said: “He is my pupil.” Having repeated this several times, and having once more recited the Fátiha, the Khán sent the party off.

On the arrival of Rashid Sultán in Moghulistán, Muhammad Kirghiz brought together all the Kirghiz and entirely subdued Moghulistán, where at that time there was a large army. It would take too long to recount the details. However, in consequence of the opposition which Rashid Sultán and his followers and allies met with from the Uzbeg Kazák, and also because of the hostility of the Kirghiz, he was obliged to return to Káshghar. Then followed those incidents in connection with Bábá Sultán and Sháh Muhammad Sultán which I have given in Part II. Muhammadi Barlás was also concerned in these matters, for it was to him they entreated the Khán to give the heritage of Sháh Muhammad Sultán, by way of retaliation. My uncle and I, however, opposed this plan.

In short, in the winter of that year, 934 [1528], the Khán sent me with Rashid Sultán to Balur, and in Balur I managed all the affairs of the army. Rashid Sultán was then eighteen years of age. He had no cultured men in his service, and had never had practice in conversation [kasb-i-muhávara]. Those about him were all a sect of Muhammadans, who, though men in form, were but brutes in their manners, and what could he learn from the brutal ways of those people? In spite of my own want of power and capacity [istitáat], I was superior to these people, and I passed my time with Rashid Sultán. So that when we returned, some little time after, the Khán found his son quite another person, and he said several times, both before me and in my absence, to Rashid Sultán, that he was delighted [mastwar] with me. I had made Rashid Sultán a son to him, in that he had won many victories with this army; and [he added] “thanks be to God, my son has come so near to being what my heart would desire him to be.”

Meanwhile news came of the revolt of Aiman Khwája Sultán who was at Aksu, and in spite of my own and my uncle's efforts, we were unable to quell it. The account of this, and of the execrable proceedings of Mirzá Ali Taghái, will be found in Part II.

Finally, I was sent, together with Rashid Sultán, to Aksu. When we reached that town the whole population came out to receive us. Aiman Khwája Sultán presented himself before the Khán. I remained six months in Aksu, where I conducted satisfactorily all military and civil affairs. Before this, one day in Moghulistán, the Khán was eating almonds; he broke one with his (blessed) teeth, and found that it had two kernels. He thereupon sent for Rashid Sultán and myself, and gave one kernel to each of us, saying: “It is an excellent and significant custom that when two men wish to become friends, each should eat one of the kernels from a double almond, and then become friends to one another. Thus, like the two kernels in one shell, nothing will separate them, and though two in appearance, they will really be one. I have told you to do this that you may be friends.” Both of us then respectfully kissed the ground, and drew our horses close together. The outcome of which was that, while we were in Aksu, we lived in great concord. Our affection, our unity, our mutual regard and confidence were beyond description, and our friendship was confirmed by sworn covenants. If I were to write down a description of our friendship and concord, the reader would certainly doubt whether such a state of things really existed, and would attribute it to mere rhetoric. In a word, after six months we parted with a hundred regrets at separation, but in hope of meeting again, and I returned to wait on the Khán. At the hour of bidding farewell I extemporised an ode [ghazal], of which I here give four verses. [Verses] …

The year after my returning to his service, the Khán entered on a holy war in Tibet, sending me on in advance, so that before the Khán joined me, I had achieved a great deal in that country. An army of 5000 men was now in Tibet—a number that the country was unable to support. So I was obliged to retire to Kashmir, with Iskandar Sultán, younger brother of Rashid Sultán. Having passed the winter in Kashmir, I returned to the Khán the following spring. This I have related [elsewhere], so there is no object in stating [details] here. While with the Khán in Tibet, he sent me to destroy the Idol-Temple of Ursáng, while he himself returned to Yárkand. I made a journey of four months; but the Khán died on his way home. The Amirs who were with him at the time, sent express messengers to Rashid Sultán to acquaint him with the event. They also sent the news to my uncle, who came to be present at the Khán's funeral, and to take part in the lamentations [azá]. On the 10th of Moharram, 940 [2nd August, 1533], Rashid Sultán arrived, when my uncle, having raised lamentations [by way of condolence], entered the presence of Rashid Sultán and was immediately put to death, together with Ali Sayyid, who was the sworn friend of my uncle. To commemorate the date of the martyrdom of these two men, the chronogram “Kutilá fi(á)l-moharram” [940] was invented [meaning: the two men were killed in the month of Moharram.]

It is the practice of the humane and the usage of the generous (and of these two qualities kings make boast) that when a person at any time renders them some particular service, they reward that person with various presents and favours. My uncle was the son of the daughter of Yunus Khán, and for generations [his family] had been at the head of the affairs of the Moghul Sultáns and Khákáns. I have explained the prerogatives of the office of Ulusbegi, in Part II. My uncle was one of the most distinguished men in the service of Rashid Sultán's father, so much so that no one was more valued or prized than he; for he had rendered some most important services to Sultán Said Khán. The first was the conquest of Andiján, which became the keystone of the Khán's dominions.

His second service was on the expedition against Káshghar, where he made such exertions, that had he not been of the party, all hope of taking Káshghar would have been relinquished. The Khán was in consequence grateful for his services, and rewarded him with favours in proportion. If my uncle had never been of service to Rashid Khán—nay, had he even committed offences against him, his faults ought to have been overlooked. But in addition to this, his invasion of Andiján delivered Rashid Khán out of the hands of the Uzbeg. It was, moreover, owing to the efforts of my uncle that Rashid Khán subdued Moghulistán—an event which was the cause of enhancing his dignity, and the commencement of his prosperity. For had the advice of Mirzá Ali Taghái and Khwája Ali Bahádur been followed, Bábá Sultán would have been sent to Moghulistán instead of Rashid Khán. He had always endeavoured to represent Rashid Sultán in a good light to the Khán. Aiman Khwája Sultán had married his daughter, and by her had five sons, who were my uncle's grandsons; yet, notwithstanding this, when it was suggested that Rashid Sultán should be set up in the place of Aiman Khwája Sultán, and that this latter should be driven away, he made no objection, but rather exerted himself to the utmost to further the plan. It is not worth while here to detail his services.

It was most astounding that all this should have been ignored, and that he should, though innocent, have been put to death. It is therefore all the more fitting that his story should not be told more fully; what God willed came to pass. Moreover, the retribution for this act is in His power; and we should read and remember the verse, “Verily we belong to God, and unto God we return.” It is the more strange that those very mischief-makers who had caused a rupture in the affairs of Rashid Sultán, were those whom he raised to high dignities. In short, Mirzá Ali Taghái was appointed successor to my uncle, and was sent to Káshghar, where, on his arrival, he omitted no act of cruelty, such as putting to death my uncle's children and relatives…^145a

In a word, the accession of Rashid Khán was characterised by the shedding of innocent blood, and by an absence of humanity. [Verses…] In the sight of the wise and pious, it is not right to shed blood, even for the kingdom of the whole world. After the murder of these faithful men, Rashid Khán established himself upon the throne of the Khánate. When the news of the death of the Khán reached Mansur Khán, he marched against Aksu, and Rashid Khán went out to meet him. Mansur Khán returned without achieving his object, and Rashid Sultán likewise returned to his seat of government. The attempt was afterwards repeated by Mansur Khán; Rashid Khán also marched out again, and returned with success and spoil. The Amirs in the service of the Khán became apprehensive, on account of my uncle having been put to death without cause. On this account they lost all confidence, and Mirzá Ali Taghái fled towards Karatigin. [Verses…]

When Mirzá Ali Taghái fled from that execrable devil,^145b he was joined by the rest of the Amirs; and having seized some of the Khán's children, they all made off to Khotan and rose in open rebellion. Rashid Khán then went after them; all the people [of Khotan] came out to receive him, except a few of the Amirs who remained in the fort. These [Amirs] were all bound and brought before Rashid Khán, who spared their lives, but ordered them all to be banished. Thus he did not kill these men who had committed a crime and were deserving of death, and whose neglect of duty had been proved, though, on the other hand, he had publicly murdered my uncle, in spite of his near relationship, his countless services, his innocence of all offence, and his strong protestations of loyalty.

After he had finished this affair of the Amirs, he banished all his paternal aunts and sisters and mothers; among the rest Zainab Sultán Khánim, who had been the favourite wife of Sultán Said Khán. He next contracted an intimacy and friendship with the Uzbeg-Shaibán, who had been old enemies (as has been already related), and did his best to exterminate the Uzbeg-Kazák, who were old friends; and to the Uzbeg of both sides [tribes] Rashid Khán gave his own sisters in marriage. As the Uzbeg-Shaibán were old enemies, Rashid Khán put an end to this [enmity] by giving his sister [in marriage], which was a base action. In short, having allied himself with the Shaibán, he entirely crushed the Uzbeg-Kazák. Still if we leave aside all consideration of the ancient covenant, the overthrowing of the Uzbeg-Kazák was, in truth, a mighty achievement. Since the time when Sultán Yunus Khán defeated Buruj Oghlán at Kará Tukái (in the year 877) up to this date, there have been many battles between the Uzbeg and the Moghuls, and the Uzbeg have always been victorious; for during all this time the Moghuls had never gained a single success over the Uzbeg. But Rashid Khán did gain a victory over them, and this exploit of his was a really great one. For although his grandfather, Sultán Ahmad Khán, overcame the Uzbeg (as has been related), yet it was only in plundering forays; he never won a victory over them in a real pitched battle. Rashid Sultán defeated their troops in order of battle.

Up to this point I have heard the story of Rashid Sultán from reliable sources in Hindustán and Kashmir, and have committed it to writing. After his victory over the Uzbeg he marched on Andiján and Turfán. But the sources from which I derived the details of this matter not being trustworthy, I have not thought fit to enter them, and have therefore drawn in the reins of my pen from [writing] of these things.

All those unworthy acts with which people have reproached Rashid Khán, were committed either for the sake, or through the efforts, of Muhammadi Barlás. The origin of this man's influence is not evident, for neither had he rendered such service as to merit elevation in rank, nor had he ever displayed such great bravery or good qualities, as to gain for himself distinction.

Rashid Khán was led, mounted, [murtakib] by him in all his affairs. If I were to relate all, the reader, who has not himself witnessed these things, would regard them as incredible. The epithet of “Himár” [Ass] which is applied to the tribe of Barlás, was, indeed, fully applicable to that particular Barlás. It would be quite out of place for me to relate how he urged Rashid Khán on to kill, or banish, his uncles and mothers and Amirs, and to change his haram; therefore I have thought it better to avoid this matter altogether.

At the present time the Most High God has delivered Abdur Rashid Khán from that calamity, and has carried off the ass [himár] with the drunkenness [khimár] of death. It is to be hoped that, this time, the reins of power may become united in the hands of intelligence, and that trouble may be kept at a distance. Also that the Khán may follow in the approved ways of his honoured father and distinguished ancestors; that his mind may be enlightened, and that he may not, for the sake of an ass, engage in the extirpation of meritorious persons.

May the Most High God, of His gracious favour, cause justice to issue from the throne of the Khánate for many years to come! May the Khán avoid all that is displeasing in the sight of God and His Prophet, and may he repent him of his former deeds! Amen! Oh Lord of the worlds!

Though Abdur Rashid Khán's powers of discrimination were faulty, he was strong of body, sound of limb, and without an equal in the art of conversation. Excepting his father, I have rarely seen an archer like him. He was brave even to rashness. In elegant conversation he was as a peerless pearl; and he had also written several letters to a great personage. He played several instruments to perfection, and had great aptitude for all arts and crafts. Once, for example, he cut a tree out of paper, and painted all the branches, the leaves, and the trunk in their proper colours; he did it so skilfully that even the masters of that craft were astounded. Since the time of my absence has been protracted, I cannot answer for all his acquirements. But in those arts which I was myself cognisant of, I know him to have excelled. Not being a musician, I cannot praise his performance on instruments with justice,^147a nor can I say anything of what he acquired during my absence. He was, besides, a good Musulmán and inclined to justice and equity. But, by allowing himself to be influenced by the violent Muhammadi, he performed many unjust acts. Please God that he may now persist in the path of justice!

WHAT right have I, with my poor learning and my want of capacity, to attempt to make my styleless reed flow upon the white [sheet] of literature?

My justification lies in the fact that I have, during my life, collected many authentic facts concerning those Moghul Khákáns who were Musulmáns, and have also myself played a part in their history. At the present time there is no one but myself who knows these traditions. Thus, if I did not make the attempt, it is probable that the memory of the Moghuls and their Khákáns would be altogether lost.

The history of the Moghuls and their Kháns can be of little interest to any but the Moghuls themselves, for they have now become the most remote and insignificant of tribes, whereas formerly they were, through the power and resolution of Chingiz Khán, the lords of the world. Chingiz Khán had four sons to whom he left the world, dividing the cultivated countries and deserts into four parts, and giving one quarter of the earth to each of these sons. Every mention in histories of the Ulus Arbaa, or “the four hordes,” refers to these four divisions. The learned Mirzá Ulugh Beg has written a history which he has called Ulus Arbaa. One of the “four hordes” is that of the Moghul, who are divided into two branches, the Moghul and the Chaghatái. But these two branches, on account of their mutual enmity, used to call each other by a special name, by way of depreciation. Thus the Chaghatái called the Moghul Jatah, while the Moghul called the Chaghatái Karáwánás.^148a At the present date there are no Chaghatái left excepting the kings, who are the sons of Báber Pádisháh; and the place of the Chaghatái is now occupied by some [other] civilised people. But of the Moghuls there are still about 30,000 in the neighbourhood of Turfán and Káshghar. Moghulistán has been seized by the Uzbeg and the Kirghiz. Although the Kirghiz belong to the tribe of Moghul^148b they have, on account of their repeated rebellions against the Khákáns, become separated from them. All the Moghuls have become Musulmáns, but the Kirghiz are still infidels, and hence their hostility to the Moghuls. The Moghuls have become a most isolated and paltry people. No one but a Moghul could be interested in this history; but though fully recognising my lack of literary capacity, I have not shrunk from doing the best in my power.

It is the practice of authors to excuse themselves, and beg for pardon if they have made any mistakes or blunders in their work. But I will not make such apology as those who say:—“If there be any mistakes or blunders”—for I know that my book is full of mistakes from beginning to end. My object is not to extol my own merit, but simply to write a memoir, that the history of the Moghuls may not be entirely forgotten; and that if, by chance, any of the Moghul Khákáns should wish to know his genealogy, he shall be able to find it in this book.

Of those Moghuls who were not Musulmáns, I have not mentioned more than the names; for an infidel, though he attain to the splendour of Jamshid and Zohhák, is not worthy of having his life commemorated. This Tárikh-i-Rashidi was completed at the end of the month Zulhijja of the year 953,^149a in the town of Kashmir (may God defend her from ruin and destruction) five years after I, Haidar Mirzá son of Muhammad Kurkán, had ascended the throne.

I WOULD lay before the wise and critical that I, the least of God's servants, Muhammad Haidar, known among my intimates as Mirzá Haidar, son of Muhammad Husain Kurkán, have been continually possessed of the thought that the rank and dignity which historians attain to, is not so high that one should have a craving for it. Still, there can be little doubt that this poor history (which has been driven by the whirlwind of pride and the waves of ignorance and intoxication, from the sea of incapacity upon the shores of small literary attainment) may be regarded as of some value by the divers in the ocean of excellence, who have concealed in the shells of perfection, the pearls of poetry and the precious stones of prose. According to the saying: “Necessity makes lawful that which is forbidden,” and because certain important events in the annals of the Moghul Khákáns have been entirely forgotten, I was induced, as far as time should permit, to narrate some of the most trustworthy facts in their history.

When the Moghul power was high, many eminent men flourished, and some wrote their people's history. Now, for more than a hundred years nothing of the sort has been done—no trace of these men remains, nor of their writings. Nor does any sign remain of their prosperity and civilisation, except here and there a ruined tower or fortification; and in some towns the relics of a monastery, a college, a mosque, a portico, or a minaret, still exist, because their foundations being of stone, or for some other reason, God willed that they should endure. No vestige of these men survives and no one knows anything concerning them. For during this long lapse of time, all have become strangers to the old customs and ways of learning. Since the conversion of the Moghuls to Islám, more especially, no history of them has been written. But the learned men of Mávará-un-Nahr and Khorásán and Irák, who have written the annals for their own kings, have made mention of the Moghuls, just where it has suited the context, while they have paid no attention to them when not connected with their own country. Among these histories may be mentioned the Mujma ut Tavárikh^151a of Khwája Rashid-ud-Din; the Tárikh-i-Guzida ^151b of Khwája Hamid Ulláh Mustaufi; the Zafar-Náma^151c of Mauláná Sharaf-ud-Din Ali Yazdi; the Tárikh-i-Manzum^151d of Mauláná Abdur Razzák; and the Ulus Arbaa^151e of Mirzá Ulugh Beg. Among these I have sought carefully for any mention of the Moghul Khákáns, but have found nothing very connected [ba tartib]. In my early years, I was much drawn to the study of the history of my forefathers, and in those days there were still alive some of the Moghul Amirs and nobles (some over one hundred years of age, some under). But it never occurred to my father or my uncles to commit to writing what they had heard concerning the Khákáns, from their parents, and other trustworthy sources. And now they have all been dead for some time. [On this account] I intend, God willing, to write an account of the Moghuls after their conversion to Islám, basing my facts upon histories and reliable traditions, in addition to what I have myself witnessed in my own times. But not finding that I had capacity or talent sufficient to justify my setting out on this bold venture, I have resolved to begin by making a trial on those events of which I have been an eye-witness, and then, should I by the grace of God succeed, I will proceed with my original plan of writing the history of the Moghul Khákáns.

BEGINNING OF PART II. OF THE TÁRIKH-I-RASHIDI, WHICH CONTAINS, IN DIFFERENT PARTS, WHAT TOOK PLACE AMONG THE MOGHUL ULUS AND THE UZBEG AND THE CHAGHATÁI.

AT the time of my birth, which was in 905, and for which the chronogram Nur Chashm Sháh has been found, the power of the Moghul Khákáns was, compared with former times, on the increase; but at this period, the towns of Moghulistán (which is another name for Kará Khitái)^152a fell into ruin, till in the beginning of the year 889, when Yunus Khán, [who affected] towns and cultivation, came into power. Most of the Moghuls had never possessed or even lived in a village—nay, had never even seen cultivation. They were as wild as the beasts of the mountains. The explanation of this is that the country of Shásh, together with its dependencies, was under the rule of the Moghuls, as were also all the deserts of Moghulistán. It would be tedious to relate this here, but, God willing, it will be mentioned in the First Part of this history.

My father was Muhammad Husain Kurkán, son of Muhammad Haidar Kurkán, son of the Amir, Lord of the Sword and the Throne, Sayyid Ali Kurkán, son of Amir Sayyid Ahmad, son of Amir Khudáidád, son of Amir Buláji. It was this Amir Buláji that introduced Islám, and changed the darkness of unbelief into the light of faith.

After my father entered the service of Sultán Mahmud Khán, son of Sultán Yunus Khán, sun of Vais Khán, son of Shir Ali Oghlán, son of Muhammad Khán, son of Khizir Khwája Khán, son of Tughluk Timur Khán (who also lightened the dark night of heathendom with the rising sun of the dawn of Islám), he was treated by the Khán with the utmost favour and honour (as is mentioned at greater length in the First Part of this history [Tárikh-i-Asl]) and had the title of Kurkán conferred upon him, as well as the honour of marriage with Khub Nigár Khánim. This alliance was contracted in Shásh in the year 899. After this he received the country of Ushtur Ushna (which is known now as Urátippa), together with as much of the surrounding country as he could bring within his power. He then had leave to depart, and spent nine years in the administration of the government of that district. During this time many important events occurred. I was born after my father had governed for six years.^154a

I think it proper here to mention who were the princes who at this time ruled in the surrounding countries.

In the country of Farghána, whose capital is Andiján, after the death of Mirzá Omar Shaikh Kurkán, son of Sultán Abu Said Kurkán, serious quarrels and disputes arose between his two sons, Zahir-ud-Din Muhammad Bábar Pádisháh Gházi and Mirzá Jahángir,^154b in spite of their youth; and these quarrels were chiefly owing to the enmity of their respective Amirs. There ensued many victories and defeats, some of which shall be mentioned in this Epitome.

In the country of Samarkand and Bokhárá, endless wars and contests arose between the three princes, Báisanghar Mirzá and Sultán Ali Mirzá (the sons of Mahmud Kurkán, son of Sultán Abu Said Kurkán) and Sháhi Beg Khán, son of Sháh Badágh Sultán, son of Abulkhair Khán, than whom, in his lifetime, there was no more exalted chief on the throne of the Juji.^154c Of these wars and disputes I will speak hereafter.

In Khorásán, Sultán Husain Mirzá^154d was at the height of his power and magnificence. From time to time the dust of dissension rose up between the father and his sons, but this the Mirzá, with his wisdom and sagacity, soon caused to subside.

In Irák, after the death of Sultán Yakub, son of Uzun Hasan,^154e the Sultáns (his sons) by reason of their youth, were unable to direct the affairs of the State, and Sháh Ismáil (who had made his violence felt in the world) taking advantage of the situation, invaded the country, entirely exterminated the rest of those Sultáns, and upset all the affairs of the state and of religion.

In the Dasht-i-Kipchák and the Ulus of Juji Khán, Baranduk Khán^154f was in power, and all the Juji Sultáns were subservient to him. They have sought to rival the rain-drops in their numbers. What took place between them and the Moghuls will be hereinafter related.

In Shásh, which is better known as Táshkand, Sultán Mahmud Khán held sway.

I must now turn to the story of Yunus Khán, without which the thread of my history would not be connected.

YUNUS KHÁN was the greatest of all the Chaghatái Kháns, and before him there was, in many respects, no one like him in his family. None of the Chaghatái Kháns who preceded him had passed the age of forty; nay, most of them never reached that age. But this prosperous Khán attained to the age of seventy-four. Towards the end of his life, growing repentant and devout, he became a disciple of that Refuge of the Pious, Nasiruddin Khwája Ubaidullah (in this history, wherever the term “His Holiness” is used, it refers to the Khwája), and him the Khán followed with piety. He was also acquainted with many other Shaikhs, and used to associate with them. His nature was adorned with many high qualities and virtues; he possessed also many acquirements, among which may be mentioned the reading of the Korán. He was of an even temper, his conversation was charming, and he had a quick perception. He excelled in penmanship, painting, and other accomplishments conformable with a healthy nature, and was well-trained in singing and instrumental music. He studied under Sharaf-ud-Din Ali Yazdi, with whom he spent twelve years, and travelled much in foreign countries. Of all these acquirements and travels, a more full account will (God willing) be given in the First Part of this history. He was graced with good qualities and perfect manners, was unequalled in bravery and heroism, and excelled especially in archery. In a word, no one of all his family can be compared to him. The Khán had seven children.

1. Mihr Nigár Khánim, whom he gave to Sultán Ahmad Mirzá. She died childless.

2. Kutluk Nigár Khánim, whom he gave to Omar Shaikh Mirzá. She had two children: Khánzáda Begum, who still honours the throne of chastity, and Bábar Pádisháh, who has illumined the world with the radiance of his power and his exploits, as I have recounted in the First Part, and will relate again in this Epitome whenever it suits the context.

3. Khub Nigár Khánim, who was given to my father, as has been mentioned above.

4. Sultán Mahmud Khán, a short notice of whose history will be given.

5. Sultán Ahmad Khán, known as Álácha Khán, of whom, also, I shall speak briefly.

6. Sultán Nigár Khánim, who was given to Mirzá Sultán Mahmud, son of Sultán Abu Said. She had one son, who is known as Mirzá Khán; and his son Sulaimán is, at the present time, king of Badakhshán.

7. Daulat Sultán Khánim, who fell into the hands of Timur Sultán, son of Sháhi Beg Khán, at the sacking of Táshkand. She too will be mentioned farther on.

AT the beginning of the reign of Yunus Khán, all the Moghuls dwelt, according to their old custom, in Moghulistán; they avoided all towns and cultivated countries [and regarded them] with great repugnance. They were Musulmáns in nothing but the name; in fact, not even in name, for they were carried off into the countries round about, and sold as slaves like other infidels. After the Khán had had the happiness to kiss the feet of his Holiness, the latter wrote letters to all the surrounding Musulmán rulers, saying: “We have seen Sultán Yunus Khán, and it is not lawful to molest a tribe whose chief is so good a Musulmán.”

From that date, no more Moghuls who had been carried off, were ever bought or sold as slaves, in a Muhammadan country. The Moghuls had always been this kind of [nomadic] people. The Khán felt that until they settled down in cultivated countries and towns, they could never become true Musulmáns. He therefore exerted himself to the utmost to bring their settlement about. When the Khán was leading away the Moghuls to Táshkand, a number of them who were loth to go, having seized the Khán's younger son, Sultán Ahmad Khán, abandoned the party and stayed behind in Moghulistán. The Khán meanwhile arrived in Táshkand with his elder son, Sultán Mahmud Khán, and the rest of the Moghuls. It would be tedious to relate their proceedings in this Epitome, but they will (God willing) be given in the First Part. When Yunus Khán went to the palace of eternity, he left the kingdom to Sultán Mahmud Khán, and the Moghuls, according to their custom, placed him on his father's throne. It is a common occurrence that those who inherit what their father has left them, do not appreciate its worth; thus the new Khán, undervaluing the great Amirs who had served his father, expelled them and set up, in their stead, weak-minded and base men: while his old friends being defeated, old enemies, who styled themselves new friends, now gained the supremacy. But in this new order of things, the Khán found it difficult to withstand these [new advisers]; nay, was incapable of keeping together his kingdom. When Alácha Khán heard of this, although he was occupied with rebellions and seditions on the confines of Moghulistán (which was under his rule), he did his best to punish those [who opposed him], and then, setting up his eldest son, Mansur Khán, in his own place, hastened to the court of his brother. This was in the year 907 [1501-2].

A year and a half previous to this meeting of the two Kháns, my mother journeyed from this transitory abode to the dwellings of eternity. She had six sons: two of them had died at the breast, four survived her, and of each of these I will speak hereafter.

One of the most curious facts in my own history is the following. While I was yet at my mother's breast, I was subject to such severe hæmorrhoids that the doctors gave up all hope of my recovery. My mother, before bearing me, had been four times disappointed in child-birth [ájiza]. She had prayed very earnestly to God to grant her a son, and after much prayer and supplication on her part, I came into existence; hence the unbounded love which my mother had for me. When my malady became alarming, she turned in every direction in search of help, till at length she went to Mauláná Muhammad Kázi, who was one of the most distinguished of the companions of his Holiness: so much so that even at this time his family have many disciples. When he had looked on me with his Christ-like glance,^157a he became very thoughtful, and after he had gone out said: “If I had known that the Mirzá's son was in such a grave condition, I should not have come.” He ordered no remedy, except frugality, and then went on his way.

One morning he sent one of his servants to my parents, to tell them that the Most High God had sent to their child the wine of recovery and the meat of life, from His heavenly abode. When my parents heard this good news, they set out that same morning to the place of worship of this holy man, and laid their prayers before him. From that same day, marked signs of improvement showed themselves in me; and up to the present time I have never had a return of the hæmorrhoids. I would point out that in this matter two miracles were performed—one being my recovery without the aid of medicine, the other the fact that the malady never returned. And this is the more wonderful miracle of the two, for hæmorrhoids generally last all one's life. From that date to the end of his life, the Mauláná helped and instructed me, both publicly and privately.

The story of each [of the children] will be told in the proper place.

After these events my mother departed this life.

Shortly afterwards Sháhi Beg Khán, with the inopportune aid of Sultán Mahmud Khán, conquered Samarkand and Bokhárá, and defeated the Timuri Sultáns: in particular Bábar Pádisháh, who was Sultán Mahmud's nephew, and almost like a son to him. After [these successes] having changed his assurances of obedience and friendship, into boasts of pride and insubordination, he began to sound the drum of revolt.

In the meanwhile Sultán Ahmad Tambal, who had been in the service of Omar Shaikh Mirzá, although he belonged to the race of the Moghul Amirs, revolted in Andiján, on account of the improvidence of the Khán, and having got possession of that place, began to shoot the arrows of insurrection at the target of sovereignty. The two Kháns consequently went to crush him— Sultán Mahmud Khán, leaving his son Sultán Muhammad Sultán in Táshkand with a strong army, wherewith to oppose his perfidious enemies. My father, too, had been left in Urátippa to oppose Sháhi Beg Khán. And they imagined that the latter could not pass between these two armies. But in reality he looked upon it as an opportunity to be seized, thinking that he would never again find the two Kháns with so small a force. Therefore he hastened from Samarkand to Farghána, passing by Urátippa on his road. [My father] thinking he had come to lay siege to the town, began to busy himself with its defence. At the hour of afternoon prayer, [Sháhi Beg] came and encamped close to the town. After the sun had deprived the world of its light, and had thrown the shadows of night upon the eyes of all creation, he broke up his camp and marched away with all possible speed, so that before the men in the fort had begun to inquire in which direction he had gone, he was many farsákhs away. When it was discovered that he had marched towards Farghána, several messengers in succession were despatched, to give notice to the Kháns of his approach. The messengers and the enemy arrived at the same moment. Neither the army of Táshkand nor that of Urátippa, had time to come to the aid of the Kháns. The two Kháns had with them 15,000 men, because in the beginning of the year they had [collected a large force] to attack Tambal, whom they had severely handled, and whose power they had entirely subdued. For this reason, they felt sure that he would now resolve on flight as a last resource. They had taken Bábar Pádisháh with them, in order that after things were settled, they might set him up on his father's throne and then return home.

The Kháns had not yet reached Andiján. Akhsi, which is one of the strongest forts in that country, was occupied by Shaikh Báyazid, brother of Tambal; he was treating about submission, and for that reason they had tarried near the fort. At this juncture, Sháhi Beg Khán came up with 30,000 men, and all his Sultáns, such as Kuchum Sultán, Suyunjuk Sultán, Jáni Beg Sultán and others. They had hardly time to draw up in line, when, after a short conflict, the Kháns were put to rout by the overpowering numbers of the enemy. Their horses being rendered useless with fatigue, the two Kháns were taken prisoners. Bábar Pádisháh fled to the hills on the south of Farghána. Sháhi Beg Khán behaved with magnanimity, and having taken possession of Táshkand, dismissed the Kháns with every mark of favour, saying: “With your help and assistance I have won my power: I took you captive, but do not kill you: I let you go.”

In this place, I call to mind the story of the tax-gatherer [amaldár]. A certain governor had imposed a fine upon a taxgatherer, and went so far as to torture him [in order to make him pay it]. But a generous Khwája took pity on him, and bought him out of the hands of his creditors [by paying] the price of the fine, and taking him home with him, showed him every kindness and attention. One day the tax-collector was sitting with his son, and they were talking confidentially, while the Khwája was listening on the other side of the wall. The son said to his father: “How can we ever worthily repay the Khwája for his kindness?” The tax-collector answered: “As soon as I am again in office, the matter will be simple.” The son then asked: “How will it be easy to repay his generosity?” His father replied: “When they have again entrusted me with an office, I will press the Khwája very hard, and will give him over to the creditors, who will fine him heavily, and when it has come to a matter of life and death for him, I will take all his money, and with a part of it will buy him off again.”

When the news of the capture of the Kháns reached Táshkand, Sultán Muhammad Sultán carried off into Moghulistán, all that he was able of his people and family, and of the Moghul Ulus, causing my father and my uncle to follow him with all the money they could collect.

When the Kháns were captured, Sháhi Beg Khán said: “I have always wished to arrange a marriage, but it has never been granted me; to make up for this [disappointment] I must now form three marriage alliances.” The youngest sister of the Khán, Daulat Sultán Khánim, who has been mentioned above in the list of the children of Yunus Khán, was married to [Sháhi Beg's] son Timur Sultán.^160a He took for himself Aisha Sultán Khánim, better known as Moghul Khánim, and gave to Jáni Beg Khán, Kutuk Khánim; both of these princesses were, in their chastity, bright as the sun and pure as the moon. Some of their children are living now, and are ruling in Mávará-un-Nahr.

On the return of the Kháns to their old residence, in Moghulistán, the younger fell ill, and at the end of the year 909, wandered from the garden of earthly dominion to the fields of Paradise.

From Khwája Tájuddin Muhammad, who inherited from his ancestors the office of Shaikh-ul-Islám of that country (and who was, in truth, a most admirable, austere man, and endowed with many good qualities) I have heard the following: “When the Khán was extremely ill, I said to him, ‘It is commonly reported that Sháhi Beg Khán has caused poison to be put in your food; if your Highness is also of this opinion, I will bring some of that powerful antidote, which comes from Khitái, and administer it.’ The Khán replied, ‘Yes, indeed, Sháhi Beg Khán has poisoned me, and the poison is this: having risen from the most degraded station to the highest elevation, he has taken us two brothers prisoners and then set us at liberty. This disgrace is the cause of my succumbing to illness. If yours is an antidote against this kind of poison, it may prove efficient.’”

Sultán Ahmad Khán had eighteen sons.

(1.) The eldest, Mansur Khán, from 909 to the present date of 948,^160b has ruled over his father's dominions with absolute power. An account of him will be given in this Epitome.

(2.) Iskandar Sultán, who died a natural death, soon after his father's demise.

(3.) Sultán Said Khán, whose history will be related. Where-ever “the Khán” is spoken of in an absolute way, in this Epitome, it is this Khán that is meant.

(4.) Bábáják Sultán, who is still in the service of Mansur Khán.

(5.) Sháh Shaikh Muhammad Sultán, who, together with his haram and some of his children, was killed by the fall of his palace during an earthquake.

(6.) Sultán Khalil Sultán, of whom I shall have occasion to speak in connection with Sultán Said Khán.

(7.) Aiman Khwája Sultán, who will also be mentioned in the same connection.

(8.) Chin Timur Sultán, who for some time was in the service of Mansur Khán, whom he afterwards abandoned, and entered the service of “the Khán.” Mansur Khán had him brought back, but he again fled; this time going to the court of Bábar Pádisháh in Hindustán. Here he rendered good service, and was in return treated with the utmost honour and respect by the Emperor. He died of a violent dysentery at Agra, where he was buried.

(9.) Yusun Timur Sultán, who like his brother, being tired of always going backwards and forwards between the two Kháns, fled to the Kazák and thence to Turán; thence again to the court of Ubaid Ullah Khán in Bokhárá. From there he went to the court of Bábar Pádisháh; him also the Emperor treated most kindly, and he is now in Hindustán.

(10.) Tukhta Bughá Sultán, who also went to Hindustán, where he died a natural death.

The other sons died natural deaths, at different times.

Sultán Ahmad Khán had four daughters.

(1.) Lál Shád Khánim, whose mother was a slave whom the Khán had married [umm-valad]. Although she was outside the circle of distinction, she was finally married to Muhammad Amir Mirzá, son of Amir Jabar Birdi, who was a Dughlát, and to their family alone belonged the office of Ulusbegi in the time of Álácha Khán.

(2.) Máhim Khánim, who was given to Builásh Khán, son of Uyuk Sultán.

(3.) The third was married to me, as will be related below.

(4.) Khadija Sultán Khánim. After the death of Sultán Ahmad Khán, Mirzá Abá Bakr, whose story will be told in connection with the Khán, took possession of Aksu, the capital of Álácha Khán's dominions. In those days Khadija Sultán Khánim fell into the hands of Mirzá Abá Bakr. He, however, treated her kindly and gave her to his son Jahángir Mirzá. When the latter was slain, she was given to Sháh Muhammad Sultán, son of Sultán Muhammad Sultán, son of Sultán Mahmud Khán, as will be related.

ON the death of Sultán Ahmad Khán, Sultán Mahmud Khán resigned to his brother's children all the country and people that had belonged to their father, from the frontier of Khitái to the confines of Káshghar, viz.: Turfán, Chálish, Kucháh [Kuchar], Aksu and Uch [Ush-Turfán], while he himself withdrew, with those few of his own people who yet remained, to the deserts of Moghulistán. There he spent five years, during which time nothing of importance happened to him. At length those same base men who had caused the night shadows of ruin to overcloud the dawn of the Khán's reign, filled his mind with evil suggestions, saying: “Sháhi Beg Khán will treat you kindly, but even if he does not, he will at least allow us to return to this corner of corners.” My uncle used to relate that one day after the death of Álácha Khán, he was at the court of Sultán Mahmud Khán in Aksu, where the Khán, being friendly and talkative, asked him: “Is the position of scullion^162a in Táshkand better than that of king in Aksu?” My uncle replied: “Verily it is, if the scullion is allowed to perform his office.” At these words the Khán was very wroth.

In short, these base men succeeded in bringing the Khán to Farghána. When news of this reached Sháhi Beg Khán, he was in Uláng-zádagán. He at once despatched a party of men to find him. These men were coming in exactly the opposite direction to the Khán, whom they met and slew, together with his five young sons, at Khojand. To commemorate the date of their martyrdom the chronogram “Lab-i-daryá-i-Khojand”=914, was devised. (This matter I will also speak of elsewhere.)

Sultán Mahmud Khán had six sons, five of whom suffered death with their father. His eldest son was Sultán Muhammad Sultán. When the Khán was setting out from Moghulistán, in the hope of being well treated by Sháhi Beg Khán, Sultán Muhammad Sultán had done his utmost to dissuade his father from going, but his words being of no avail, he separated from his father and stayed behind in Moghulistán. From circumstances which, God willing, will be related in the First Part [Tárikh-i-Asl], he was not able to remain in Moghulistán, but went in dire distress to Baranduk Khán and Kásim Khán^163a in the Dasht-i-Kipchák. His followers, hoping that Sháhi Beg Khán had received Sultán Mahmud Khán well, led him by a wrong road and brought him to Táshkand, where the Uzbeg sent him to join his father. He left one son, whose name was Sháh Muhammad Sultán. His history will be given in my notice of the Khán.

WHEN the Kháns fell into the hands of Sháhi Beg Khán at Aksu, my father was at Urátippa. When Sháhi Beg Khán passed between [the two armies] it was not possible for my father to form a junction with the Kháns, and he found it necessary to go to Karátigin. At that time Khusrau Sháh, one of the Amirs of Mirzá Sultán Mahmud, son of Sultán Abu Said, was in possession of Hisár, Kunduz and Badakhshán. After the death of Mirzá Sultán Mahmud, he had blinded his son Sultán Masud Mirzá, and when Báisanghar Mirzá, son of Sultán Mahmud Mirzá, fled from Samarkand, Khusrau Sháh sent messengers to him to express his repentance, saying: “What I did, was from fear for my life, for Sultán Masud Mirzá had the intention of killing me; but now, in compensation for that act, I will serve you so faithfully that, however much my infamous act may have brought down upon me the execrations and curses of mankind, my conduct for the future will procure for me their favour and applause.” In this manner did he make abundant promises and protest so much, that he deceived Báisanghar Mirzá also, and sent that worthy prince into the next world, as if he were an arrow from a bow.

Thus he brought the whole of the dominion of Sultán Mahmud Mirzá under his own power. But these successes filled his mind with pride and vainglory. When he was thus at the height of his power, my father arrived in Karátigin, and Khusrau Sháh desired an interview with him. My father accordingly went to Hisár; and Khusrau Sháh, having received him in the Bágh-i-chinár, with the utmost distinction and friendliness, said to him: “I look upon your gracious visit as a blessing from God; for it is the season of Sháhi Beg Khán's supremacy. My fear is that though this year his mind is set upon the conquest of other territories, he may next year turn towards this quarter. I have never been to war with the Uzbeg, and do not know their mode of warfare. For every tribe has its own special methods, whether in war or in negotiation. The arrangement of these matters differs with each people according to time and place, and until their methods are known, it is difficult to contend with them. Now, as you have many times had to do with the Uzbeg, both in peace and in war, and have experienced, when at war with them, both victory and defeat, make known to me all that you have learned, that I may be guided by what you tell me. As my reliance is on you, and my hope, I beg you to accept, in confirmation of my confidence, Sultánim Begum, daughter of Sultán Ahmad Mirzá, and one of the princesses, [of my family] that she may be a bond of union between us.”

Such idle words and many more did he utter, and set on foot grand preparations for the marriage.

The destruction [viráni] of Táshkand and Urátippa was in the season of Cancer,^164a and this affair took place in the end of the season of the Balance.^164b

Meanwhile, news arrived of the invasion of Sháhi Beg Khán, and all the adherents of Khusrau Sháh fled in different directions. Those who possessed castles, fortified themselves in them, and those who had none, fled to the hills and the remote valleys and glens. No one troubled himself about his neighbour. As all Khusrau Sháh's people were scattered in confusion, my father also took refuge in Karátigin, which is a country of mountain fastnesses. Among these mountains they encountered a very severe winter. It began to snow as soon as they arrived, and for one whole month the weather did not clear, so that the snow reached to a depth of twelve spans, and for those who had settled in the valleys, or lived in houses, there was no possibility of changing their abode.

Now Sháhi Beg's purpose in coming [to Hisár] was not to seize Khusrau Sháh, but just to try whether Khusrau Sháh had power to withstand him or not. In that inroad he did not commit much violence. Whatever plunder did fall into his hands, he seized upon. He then returned, with the conviction that when he came a second time he would frighten away [Khusrau Sháh] as a fly from a dish, with a mere wave of his hand. That winter he also wished to test the people of Khorásán. Using the same means, he marched on Balkh, where the governor at that time was Sultán Kulunják, acting under Badi-uz-Zamán Mirzá, son of Sultán Husain Mirzá. He commanded his men to invest the town, and spent the whole of that winter in besieging it. The Khorásáni were, in spite of their numerous attacks on the enemy, unable to relieve Balkh. Thus, during that winter, he weighed Khusrau Sháh and the Khorásáni in the scales of experiment, and found that neither of them equalled himself in weight.

But while Sháhi Beg Khán was engaged in besieging Balkh, Khusrau Sháh was left free from molestation, and his men again assembled. In short, his affairs began to prosper, and he sent messengers without intermission to Sháhi Beg Khán, with suitable expressions of friendship, which Sháhi Beg Khán returned in kind. That winter, when Khusrau Sháh was recovering his peace of mind, news arrived from Karátigin that there had been a great fall of snow, so that no one was able to get away. Khusrau Sháh immediately despatched 20,000 men, under his brother Mir Vali.^165a

Those in Karátigin were under no apprehensions from anything on his side, but remained where they were, far and near. When they learned the approach of the army, they immediately mustered all the men they could, to the number of about 500, and occupied the pass. The snow was so deep that no one dared leave the road. Both sides dismounted and the fight commenced. It lasted from morning till night. Finally our people had no arrows left, for on both sides every arrow that was shot was lost in the snow. The enemy were very numerous, and advanced to the fight in detachments; while as soon as the arrows of one detachment were expended, another came up to take its place and continued the fight. But we had on our side only one body, and towards evening, our arrows being entirely expended, our people turned and fled. Among the Amirs of my father, who died of arrow-wounds in that fight, were Bágh Yasár Oghlán, Khush Rái Kukildásh, and several more. My father escaped, with six others, towards the hills of the country of Farghána, which lie on the eastern side of that country, between Káshghar and Andiján. In those mountains are people whom they call Jagirák, and who, at that time, were great cattle-stealers. Not long after this, however, they were exterminated by Mirzá Abá Bakr.^165b But Khusrau Sháh had carried away all our servants and retinue to Kunduz, where they spent one year as best they could.

Having reached this point in my narrative, if I omitted to give a short account of Sháhi Beg Khán, the chain of my history would not be continuous.

WHEN the great judge and disposer of all things determines to exalt some mortal with the crown of sovereignty and make him illustrious, he so arranges that great warriors and intelligent councillors assemble round his person, who may defend him from his enemies and ill-wishers, and make all far-sighted men blind and all attentive men deaf, so that father and son, brother and brother, are at enmity with one another. These words may serve as a preface to the story of Sháhi Beg Khán.

He was the son of Sháh Badágh Sultán, the son of Abulkhair Khán. After the death of Abulkhair Khán, disputes arose among those whom he had left behind. To such a length were these quarrels carried, that each one went in a different direction, and thus all the men of noble lineage—the Sultáns and the Mirzádas— who were held in esteem by the people, were scattered. In this confusion, Sháhi Beg Khán, after much suffering and wandering, being driven to extremity by want, went to Mávará-un-Nahr, where Sultán Ahmad Mirzá, son of Sultán Abu Said Mirzá, was reigning. Sultán Ahmad Mirzá was a powerful king, and had round him Amirs of such dignity and pretensions that they aimed at having kings in their service. One of these Amirs was Amir Abdul-Ali Tarkhán, Governor of Bokhárá. Sháhi Beg Khán became his vassal, and was entered as one of his retainers. In like manner several other Sultáns entered his service. From this circumstance, an estimate may be formed of the splendour and dignity of Sultán Ahmad Mirzá. As long as Sultán Ahmad Mirzá remained in the bonds of this life, Sháhi Beg Khán stayed in the service of Abdul-Ali Tar-khán. The Mirzá and Abdul-Ali Tarkhán died at about the same time, after which Sháhi Beg Khán went to Turkistán and sought the protection and favour of Sultán Mahmud Khán, who did not deny him what support and assistance lay in his power to give, till finally, by means of the aid afforded him by the Khán, Sháhi Beg Khán took possession of Samarkand and Bokhárá. Then the number of his troops rose from two or three hundred to 50,000; or rather to 60,000. From the time of his going to Turkistán, by the help of Sultán Mahmud Khán, his power had increased daily. All the Sultáns and Amirs, and other adherents of Abulkhair Khán, who had been wandering aimlessly in the wastes of the Dasht-i-Kipchák, now joined him; and thus he arrived at power.

After the reduction of Samarkand and Bokhárá, he turned against his own benefactor. Thus was the protector undone by the dependant. When news of this reached the ears of Álácha Khán, he set out from Moghulistán to his brother's aid. The result, as has been briefly related above, was that he captured and set at liberty the Khán [Mahmud], and took from him as many of the Moghuls as was possible. Thus to his Uzbeg army there were added 30,000 Moghuls. [Verses] …

Leaving Táshkand, he did not tarry long in Samarkand, but proceeded to ravage Hisár and to besiege Balkh (as has been mentioned). Having passed the winter of 909 [1503-4] in the siege of Balkh, he went, in the beginning of spring, to Samarkand, and remained a month or two in the open country [Sahári] round that town. He then turned his victorious arms against Andiján. The first year, when he captured the Khán, he did not trouble himself with Tambal or Andiján, being fully occupied in settling the affairs of Táshkand. Moreover, before the conquest of that place, Shaikh Báyazid had hastened fearlessly out to receive him, and had shown him signs of loyalty. Tambal also had proffered him timely assurances of devotion, with all of which he showed himself contented, and returned that same year. Having thus set his mind at rest with regard to the Moghuls and Táshkand, and having had an opportunity of forming an estimate of the Hisári and the Khorásáni, he wished first of all to settle the question of Andiján and Tambal, that he might, with a calm mind, proceed with the reduction of Hisár and the extermination of Khusrau Sháh, which was the first step towards the conquest of Khorásán.

When he reached Marghinán, which is one of the chief towns of Farghána, Tambal abandoned all the forts in Farghána, and collected a force within the fort of Andiján. On this news being brought to Sháhi Beg Khán, he and all his wisest advisers were agreed that this bringing together, into one place, of the troops [of Tambal] only made the conquest easier for them. With all speed, therefore, they hastened to Andiján, and being sure that they should find him, prepared for a siege; it was resolved that Sháhi Beg Khán should conduct the siege in person, while the rest of the Sultáns should ravage and spoil the country round, seizing the forts and men, and laying waste the whole region. The next year they would return to complete the work of devastation. But the hand of fate seized Tambal by the collar and hastened him to his end. He came out of the fort saying: “Let us meet them in the open field”; and he led 10,000 men out of the walls. When Sháhi Beg Khán arrived, Tambal, judging of their numbers from the dust they raised, retired. But before he could reach the fort, many of his men had fallen by the edge of the sword, and Tambal and his brothers, broken and terrified, crept into the citadel. It had been decided that that year they should lay waste his territories^168a and then return home, so that the enterprise should be easy the next year. He himself, however, went to meet his fate: and thus the undertaking which was to have been accomplished the year following, was achieved in forty days. When Sháhi Beg Khán saw that the fugitives, in terror of their lives, had taken refuge in the fort, he resolved to shut them up and to push the siege vigorously forward.

After the defeat in Karátigin, my father crossed to the country of the Jagirák.

The most surprising thing of all was that, although news had reached [Tambal] of the movements of Sháhi Beg Khán, instead of making preparations to withstand the advance of Sháhi Beg Khán, he went to attack my father in Jagirák. The Jagirák, allying themselves with my father, took up a strong position in the valley of Turuk Shárán.^168b On the arrival of Tambal, fighting began and lasted continuously for three days. I have heard my father say: “On the third day we had used every means in our power to hold our ground. When night fell we became very thoughtful and distressed, wondering what would become of us if the enemy renewed the attack, for most of our active men had been killed or wounded, and there was no one left. How will it be with us tomorrow? But when day broke we were filled with astonishment and wonder, for on going up to the top of the hill, we saw the army hurrying away with all possible speed, in divisions and detachments. Our joy and gratification knew no bounds, and we immediately sent off some of those who were not wounded, or whose wounds were not mortal, to obtain information. One man was brought in. He said that at midnight some one had brought news [to Tambal] that Sháhi Beg Khán had reached Kand Bádám, and on learning this, he had set out without delay. This news caused fresh life and immeasurable joy to spring up in us. We forthwith sent a messenger to Sháhi Beg Khán, to say that we had come to that country in great distress, owing to the confusion of times; that when news of the arrival of the Khán reached us it was as if life [ján] had come to us; whatever the royal mandate should lay upon us we were ready to perform. Our messenger reached Andiján on the second day of the siege. He was immediately sent back to tell us that we were desired to hasten on without delay, and that everything we could hope for or desire would be done for us. We were very apprehensive, but having no other place to go to, and deeming it the most advantageous plan for ourselves, we set out with light hearts.

“When I came into the Khán's presence, he showed me all honour and respect, and received me in the most friendly way, saying to all his Sultáns and Amirs: ‘Muhammad Husain Kurkán is our guest; I expect you all to entertain him as a guest.’ And every day, while the siege was in progress, all the Sultáns and Amirs entertained us with feasts and banquets and showed us marked attention.

“On the morning of the forty-first day, Tambal mounted to the top of one of the towers and called out with a loud voice: ‘I am a Mirzá, remember my services and the time of our infancy. Tell me what I should do—[and I will do it].’” (Now Tambal was my father's foster brother.) My father continued: “Although I had been very badly treated by him, it made my heart sad to see him in this evil plight, and I asked: ‘Why do you not strengthen the fortress?’ Tambal replied: ‘I cannot continue hostilities; what is to be done?’ I answered: ‘The only hope for the helpless is surrender.’ Timur Sultán was present. Tambal at once came out of the fort with his brothers. He came in confusion and alarm, and threw his arms round my neck. They [the Uzbeg] granted him no respite, but that same hour put them all to the sword. They then closed the gates of the fort, and would not allow any kind of plunder or rapine to be carried on.”

That country was then given to Jáni Beg Sultán, and Sháhi Beg, accompanied by my father, retraced his steps and arrived in Samarkand. [There] they spent a few days in military preparations, after which they set out to attack Khusrau Sháh. On reaching Hisár, they found the fort defended by Shiram Chahra, a dependant of Khusrau Sháh. Sháhi Beg Khán conducted the siege in person, but after a few days Shiram Chahra begged for quarter, and coming out, surrendered the fort. The Khán, observing his promise,^169a let Shiram go. Shiram stayed for a time among the followers of the Khán, and many who had formerly been attached to him, now rejoined him.

It is not known how it came about, but the same day that the Khán began, personally, to lay siege to Hisár, he also sent a mandate to Mahmud Sultán, ordering him to take as many men from the army as he wanted, and to advance on Kunduz.

Khusrau Sháh for a long time past had been filling Kunduz with stores, provisions and treasure, and had proclaimed that he had supplies enough to last him for twenty years. If all else should fail [he said] we shall, at least, be able to remain inside the fort for twenty years, dead or alive.

While he was busy with this vain boasting, news came that Sháhi Beg Khán was laying siege to Hisár, and that Mahmud Sultán was crossing the River Amuya.^170a That same hour, abandoning all his stores, he packed up whatever he could, and in the utmost confusion and disorder, set out for the hills, hoping there to find a refuge. A few days later, Mahmud Sultán entered Kunduz, where I myself happened to be, with my sisters and my younger brother. It has been stated already, that a marriage connection had been formed between my father and Sultánim Begum, and after the above related circumstances, we were carried off to Kunduz. During our sojourn there, Sultánim Begum gave birth to a son, named Abdullah, whose history will be told in various connections. My father had accompanied Mahmud Sultán, for the greatest intimacy existed between them. The reason for this was as follows. In his earlier days, Sháhi Beg Khán had made every possible effort to obtain supreme power, and was bound by no promises or agreements. Whenever an occasion offered he pushed his ambitious projects: if he was successful he would say: “It was God's will”; if he failed he was always ready with a thousand excuses and pretexts. In this way, frequent misunderstandings arose between him and Sultán Mahmud Khán. The wonder is that in every instance, his pretext, such as it was, should have been accepted. It would be tedious to enter here into the details of this matter, which will be given in the First Part [Tárikh-i-Asl]. I will, however, give one instance in this place. Sháhi Beg was then in Turkistán at the height of favour and prosperity, when Sultán Mahmud Khán led an army against Tambal. After three days' march, in consequence of some untoward events (mentioned in the Tárikh-i-Asl) his projects were frustrated and he marched back again. All the Amirs who had come from [beyond] the frontiers to join the army, now returned and settled down again within their own territories.

When news of the Khán's expedition reached Sháhi Beg Khán in Turkistán, he at once placed the foot of ambition in the stirrup of enterprise, and marched to attack Táshkand. He sent Mahmud Sultán against Sairám, which in old books is called Isbijáb,^171a but while on his road he learnt that the Khán had returned. He instantly sent a messenger to say that his Highness had set out to punish his rebellious vassal Tambal, while he had come to protect Táshkand, and [the Khán's] family and household. (Though except himself there was no one to hurt them.) Hearing of his Highness's return to his capital, he had also returned, and, in effect, he did go back to Turkistán. He moreover despatched swift messengers to Mahmud Sultán, enjoining him, likewise, to molest no place, but to return. But before the messengers could arrive, Mahmud Sultán, supposing Sairám to be unprotected, had begun to plunder. The Governor of Sairám was Amir Ahmad, one of the Itáráji Amirs, and uncle of Tambal, but unlike his nephew, he was a worthy man and a devoted servant to Sultán Mahmud Khán. He went out to check Mahmud Sultán, and the two forces met, when Mahmud Sultán was seized and brought bound before the Khán. The Khán sent for my father, who, on his arrival, begged that the prisoner's life might be spared; therefore he [Mahmud] was treated with great kindness and then allowed to depart. On this account a very close intimacy and warm friendship sprang up between my father and Mahmud Sultán. He accompanied Mahmud Sultán to Kunduz, and there caused us to rejoin his own party; thus our families and households arrived at Shahr-i-Sabz, a town which Sháhi Beg Khán had given to my father as a fief. From the time of the return from Balkh to that now mentioned, only one spring had elapsed. At the beginning of the winter, Sháhi Beg Khán set out against Khwárizm, while my father fled into Khorásán.

In this place, for the proper understanding of what followed, it will be necessary to give some account of Bábar Pádisháh and Sultán Said Khán. Some further details will, God willing, be given in the First Part.

THERE existed anciently, between the Chaghatái and the Moghuls, a bitter enmity. Moreover, from the time of Amir Timur till that of Sultán Abu Said Mirzá, some one of the race of Chaghatái Khán, son of Chingiz Khán, had always been placed on the royal throne, and was honoured with the title of King, in spite of the fact that he was [in reality] a prisoner, as one may gather from the royal mandates. When it came to the turn of Sultán Abu Said Mirzá to reign, this king discarded the old custom; Yunus Khán was summoned from Shiráz, and was sent into Moghulistán to oppose his brother Isán Bughá Khán. But in this Epitome there is no space for an account of the removal of the Khán to Shiráz, of the Khánship of Isán Bughá Khán, or of the reign of Sultán Abu Said Mirzá.^172a

To be brief, Sultán Abu Said Mirzá said to Yunus Khán: “The old order of things has been changed; you must now lay aside all your [former] pretensions: that is to say, the royal mandates will be issued in the name of this dynasty [tabaka], and henceforth there must be friendship between us, and a bond of union.”

When Yunus Khán came to Moghulistán, he, after thirty years of hardship and suffering, got the upper hand of Isán Bughá Khán, as will be briefly related in connection with the history of Sultán Said Khán and Mirza Abá Bakr.

The noble mind of Yunus Khán was thus set at rest; Sultán Abu Said Mirzá changed an old enemy into a new friend. Yunus Khán was desirous of making a return for his kindness, and [said to himself]: “Perhaps in the same way that he has changed an old enemy into a new friend, I will change a friend into a relation.” To this end, he gave to the three sons of Mirzá Sultán Abu Said (namely, Sultán Ahmad Mirzá, Sultán Mahmud Mirzá, and Omar Shaikh Mirzá) three of his daughters in marriage; the names of these three daughters being Mihr Nigár Khánim, Sultán Nigár Khánim, and Kutluk Nigár Khánim. (These have all been already mentioned.)

As Farghána, the country of Omar Shaikh, was situated on the borders of Moghulistán, [Yunus Khán] became more intimate and friendly with him than with either of his brothers: indeed, the Khán made no distinction between him and his own children, and whenever they pleased they used to come and go between each other's countries and residences, demanding no ceremony, but being satisfied with whatever was at hand.

On the occasion of the birth of Bábar Pádisháh, a messenger was sent to bear the good tidings to Yunus Khán, who came from Moghulistán and spent some time with [Omar Shaikh]. When the child's head was shaved, everyone gave feasts and entertainments. Never were two kings known to be on such terms of intimacy as were Yunus Khán and Omar Shaikh Mirzá. In short, the Pádisháh was born on the 6th of Moharram of the year 888. Mauláná Munir Marghináni, one of the Ulamás of Ulugh Beg Mirzá, discovered the date in the [numerical value of the letters] of Shash Moharram. They begged his Holiness to choose a name for the child, and he blessed him with the name of Zahir-ud-Din Muhammad.

At that time the Chaghatái were very rude and uncultured [buzurg], and not refined [bázári] as they are now; thus they found Zahir-ud-Din Muhammad difficult to pronounce, and for this reason gave him the name of Bábar. In the public prayers [khutba] and in royal mandates he is always styled ‘Zahir-ud-Din Bábar Muhammad,’ but he is best known by the name of Bábar Pádisháh. His genealogy [is as follows]. Omar Shaikh Kurkán, son of Sultán Abu Said Kurkán, son of Sultán Muhammad Mirzá, son of Mirán Sháh Mirzá, son of Amir Timur Kurkán. And on the mother's side: Kutluk Nigár Khánim, daughter of Yunus Khán, son of Vais Khán, son of Shir Ali Khán, son of Muhammad Khán, son of Khizir Khwája Khán, son of Tughluk Timur Khán. This prince was adorned with various virtues, and clad with numberless good qualities, above all of which bravery and humanity had the ascendant. In the composition of Turki poetry he was second only to Amir Ali Shir. He has written a Diván, in the purest and most lucid Turki. He invented a style of verse called “Mubaiyan,” and was the author of a most useful treatise on Jurisprudence, which has been adopted generally. He also wrote a tract on Turki Prosody, superior in elegance to any other, and put into verse the Rasala-i-Válidiyyah of his Holiness. Then there is his Vakái^173a or Turki History, which is written in a simple, unaffected, and yet very pure style. (Some of the stories from that work will be reproduced here.) He excelled in music and other arts. In fact, no one in his family before him ever possessed such talents as his. Nor did any of his race ever perform such wonderful exploits, or experience such strange adventures, as did he. He was twelve years of age when his father, Omar Shaikh Mirzá, died. In his Vakái, which, though in Turki, is written in very elegant and florid style, he says: “On Monday, the 4th of Ramazán, Omar Shaikh Mirzá having flown from the top of the precipice with his pigeon and his pigeon-house, became a falcon, at the age of thirty-nine.”^174a This occurred in the year 899, and after his father's death Bábar Pádisháh was raised to the throne, being, at that time, twelve years of age. There was so much dissension between Báisanghar Mirzá and Sultán Ali Mirzá (the sons of Sultán Mahmud, son of Sultán Abu Said),^174b that neither of them had strength enough to protect Samarkand. When information of this [state of affairs] reached Andiján, the Emperor set out to attack Samarkand. Although the Mirzás had become very weak, they offered him stout resistance; but finally, Báisanghar having no power left, abandoned the town and fled towards Hisár, where he was put to death by Khusrau Sháh (as already mentioned). The Emperor took Samarkand, and quartered in it as many of the troops of Andiján as was possible, while the rest returned to Andiján, some with his permission, some without.

On the arrival of Tambal, of whom we have spoken, he, in conjunction with some other Amirs, set Jahángir Mirzá, younger brother of the Emperor, upon the throne.

The Chief Judge [Kázi] of Andiján, a very pious and religious man, who had done everything in his power to forward the Emperor's interests, was wantonly put to death. A short time before the murder of the Kázi, the adherents of the Emperor had strengthened and defended the fort of Andiján, and had sent letters of entreaty [to the Emperor], representing that if he did not come quickly, Andiján would fall, and that after it Samarkand would also succumb. On receiving these letters, the Emperor left Samarkand, and set out for Andiján. On reaching Khojand, however, news was brought him that the enemy had won the day. The Emperor, having left one place, and lost the other, was greatly perplexed, and betook himself to his uncle, Sultán Mahmud Khán.

The Emperor's mother, and her mother, Isán Daulat Begum, went to their son and sister. This sister was my mother. On this account the Emperor, also, stayed in our country. His hosts exerted themselves to the utmost on his behalf, and after many severe hardships, after many victories and defeats, the Emperor once more became ruler of Samarkand. He fought many battles with rival claimants for Samarkand, and experienced both victory and defeat. At length he was besieged, and when all his power of resistance had gone, he gave his sister, Khánzáda Begum, to Sháhi Beg Khán, and making some kind of treaty, left Samarkand, which thus fell again into the hands of Sháhi Beg Khán. It would be very tedious were I to relate all the details; however, to be brief, the Emperor [again] repaired to his uncle. Having given up all idea of [regaining] Samarkand, he determined to secure Andiján. The Kháns also, having bound the girdle of endeavour round the waist of fatherly love, exerted themselves to the utmost to take Andiján, that they might give it to the Emperor, with the result which has been mentioned above. After the last battle, in which the Kháns fell into the hands of Sháhi Beg Khán, the Emperor fled to the hills on the south of the country of Farghána, where he underwent many hardships and innumerable misfortunes. Moreover, his mother was with him, as were also most of his servants, together with the family and children. In that journey (and verily, as the Prophet himself said, “Travelling is a foretaste of Hell”) they all suffered great hardships, and with difficulty reached, at length, the territory of Hisár, which is the capital of Khusrau Sháh, hoping that they might participate in the humanity for which he was renowned. But he, like the heavens, changed, and averting the face of compassion, turned the back of unkindness towards that master of benevolence. But beyond this he did not do them any injury. And thus, in the same state of dejection, affliction, apprehension, and evasion, they passed on towards Ghuri and Baklán. When they reached this quarter, the back of their strength being broken, and the foot of vigour being bound, they tarried for a few days.

How often in misfortune is there a hidden blessing! Although waiting in that place was a cause of great affliction to them, it turned out most providentially, and in a way which the most farsighted person could not have foreseen. For at this very crisis, the advance of the standards of Sháhi Beg Khán on Hisár, and the approach towards Kunduz of the drums of Mahmud Sultán, caused the boasting Khusrau Sháh to desert his kingdom, as has been related above. He, too, fled to the hills of Ghuri; and on his arrival there, learnt that the Emperor was still among the mountains. That same night his servants and retinue, both greas and small, from the Mir to the groom, all flocked to the court of the Emperor. Khusrau Sháh saw nothing left for it but to hasten also to offer his services. Yet this man had put out the eyes of one of the Emperor's cousins, Sultán Masud Mirzá, and had brought Masud's brother, Báisanghar Mirzá, to the bier, after having raised him to the throne; also, at the time when the Emperor had arrived on his frontier, he had, with extreme harshness, ordered him to quit the country.

Moreover, Mirza Khán, a younger brother of the cruelly-treated Mirzás, whose father and mother were both closely connected with the Emperor's father and mother, had shared in all the Emperor's sufferings and trials in the mountains, and was at this time with him. When Khusrau Sháh arrived in the Emperor's presence, Mirzá Khán petitioned that he might be put to death, by way of retaliation for his treatment of his [Mirzá Khan's] two brothers. The Emperor, whose natural disposition was a humane one, said to Mirzá Khán: “It would be a pity, a thousand pities, to compare two good angels with this devil of a king, and to such purpose did he pierce the pearls of love with the diamond of mercy, that at last he caused Mirzá Khán to desist from his demand and be satisfied. When Khusrau Sháh looked upon the Emperor and Mirzá Khán, the forehead of his folly became moist with the perspiration of shame, but the Emperor wiped it clean with the sleeve of forgiveness and the skirt of pardon. When the audience was terminated, the Emperor commanded the treasurers to take back all the property, treasure, horses, etc., which they had brought to him, just as they were, although he had only one horse suitable to his rank, and that was used also by his mother. From this an idea may be formed of what necessaries [he had at his command]. He ordered that none of [Khusrau's] effects should be confiscated. Although the Emperor was very needy, he would not take any of the presents, but gave him back all his arms and treasures untouched, and declined all that was offered. This is one trait out of a thousand, in the Emperor's character. Khusrau Sháh, having obtained permission to go to Khorásán, separated from the Emperor, and proceeded to his destination. It is astonishing that, with such a force as he had, he did not attempt to defend his own State. Having got some help from Khorásán, he went and attacked Kunduz, where he was put to death without much ado. Verily the murder of a master, or a master's son, is a portentous deed!

The Emperor, in one night, became master of 20,000 men, together with great Amirs, such as Báki Chaghániáni,^177a Sultán Ahmad Karául, Báki Nila Furush and others, who took office under him.

[Having made the necessary preparations] they set out against Kábul. After the death of the Emperor's uncle, Ulugh Beg Mirzá of Kábul, Mukim, son of Zunnun^177b Arghun, one of the Mirzás of Sultán Husain, had taken possession of Kábul. Immediately on the arrival of the Emperor, he went out to oppose him, but seeing the enemy's superior numbers, he fled back and prepared to defend himself in the fort of Kábul. At length, being unable to hold out, he begged for quarter and surrendered the fort. Faithful to his agreement, the Emperor allowed him to proceed to Kandahár, with all his effects and followers. From that date, 909, to the present date, 948, Kábul has remained in the hands of the Emperor and his descendants.

Having brought down my history to this point, it is time to turn to the proceedings of Sultán Said Khán; also to those of my father, of his journey to Khorásán, and of his relations with the Emperor. The first part will be given briefly, and the latter part in detail.

BEGINNING OF THE STORY OF SULTÁN SAID KHÁN, SON OF SULTÁN AHMAD KHÁN, SON OF SULTÁN YUNUS KHÁN, AND THE SUFFERINGS AND HARDSHIPS HE ENDURED AT THE OUTSET OF HIS CAREER.

[Here follows a somewhat lengthy dissertation on the advantages of misfortune, into which is introduced an anecdote in verse concerning Moses, taken from the “Salsalat-uz-Zahab” or “Golden Chain” of Abd-urrahman Jami, and also an account, in prose, of the Education of Nushiriván the Just.] Wherever in this Epitome the Khán, in an absolute sense, is mentioned, Sultán Said Khán is meant.^178a This Khán had many wonderful adventures. As one of the chief objects of this Epitome is to set forth the virtue and ability of the Khán, I shall enter into detail.

His most noble lineage has already been given. From the time of his birth to the age of fourteen, he spent his days under the fond care and kind protection of his father. When he reached the age of fourteen, his father, Sultán Ahmad Khán, better known as Álácha, wished to go to the assistance of his elder brother, Sultán Mahmud Khán. He therefore appointed his eldest son, Mansur Khán, to fill his place on the throne, and took with him to Táshkand, two sons who were younger than Mansur Khán, namely, Sultán Said Khán and Bábáják Sultán. The Khán was with his father at the battle of Akhsi, in which the Kháns were captured, as has been mentioned. When the army was thrown into disorder and every man was trying to save his own life, the Khán also took flight, but at that moment he was struck in the thigh by an arrow, which, piercing his armour, struck the bone. As his father's army was routed he had no means of escape. Some men of the district captured him, and as he was, at the time, unable to walk, they refrained from carrying him as a present to anybody, but took care of him for a few days.

Sháhi Beg Khán returned in haste to settle his affairs in Táshkand. By the time the Khán had recovered his strength, Shaikh Báyazid had taken upon himself the government of Akhsi. The Khán, as soon as he was sufficiently recovered to be moved, was brought before him, and by his orders was thrown into prison, where he remained a whole year.

When Sháhi Beg Khán arrived [in Táshkand] he seized and put to death Tambal, and gave the government of Andiján to Jáni Beg Sultán. When this latter came to Akhsi, the Khán was brought before him. Jáni Beg Sultán recommended him to the favour of Sháhi Beg Khán, who received him with compassion, kept him in his fatherly care, and denied him nothing. He, moreover, took the Khán with him on the expedition in which he conquered Hisár and Kunduz.

I have heard the Khán relate, in terms of wonder and admiration, that when Sháhi Beg Khán had conquered Hisár, news was brought of the taking of Kunduz by Mahmud Sultán. Sháhi Beg Khan, having entrusted Hisár to Hamza Sultán and Chaghánián to Mahdi Sultán,^179a set out quietly on his return. “As the pass of Darband-i-Ahanin [The Iron Gate] was very difficult [continued the Khán], and as the army was much burdened with booty, they made the journey, farsákh after farsákh, by way of Buya and Tirmiz. While the victorious army was encamped at Buya, I was sitting once, at midday, in the royal tent [majlis]. The hour for the assembly had not yet arrived, and only a few of the king's intimates were present, when somebody with a terrified countenance and wild appearance came in great haste, and laid a letter at the foot of the royal throne. As [Sháhi Beg] perused the contents of this letter a great change came over him, and before he had finished reading it, he rose up and went in to his haram, giving orders for his horse to be brought. He remained for some time in the haram; but after midday prayers came out again and mounted his horse. He was attended by a great number of people. Then it was made known that Mahmud Sultán had died a natural death in Kunduz, and that his body was on the way [to the camp]. When Sháhi Beg Khán had got some distance away, we saw a great crowd in pitch-black clothes, such as captives wear. Having placed the bier upon the ground, they drew up in two lines behind it. When [Sháhi Beg Khán] saw this, he made a sign for all the Sultáns and others to dismount and follow in his train. These, having obeyed, began to raise cries of grief and lamentation, and we, in the camp, also commenced to utter moans and wailings. When those attending the bier approached, he ordered all who were with him to draw up in a line, while he himself rode forward until his horse's head was just above the bier; he then gave a sign for everyone to keep silence, and thereupon those who were with him ceased from rending their garments and tearing their beards He then called one of the Amirs of Mahmud Sultán, and said to him such things as are usual on occasions of condolence. After this he remained silent for a while, never showing the slightest change in his countenance, nor shedding a tear. At the end of an hour he raised his head and said: ‘The death of Mahmud is a good thing: men have been wont to say that the power of Sháhi Beg Khán was upheld by Mahmud: let it now be known that Sháhi Beg Khán was in no way whatever dependent upon Mahmud. Carry him away now, and bury him.’ Having said this, he turned away, and all present were astounded at his boldness and composure.”

The death of Mahmud Sultán was a great loss to the Moghuls, for he was, in every respect, a thorough Moghul [and they recalled all he had done for them].

When Sháhi Beg Khán reached Samarkand, Sháh Begum arrived from Moghulistán. The details are briefly these: Sháh Begum was the mother of the Kháns, was daughter of Sháh Sultán Mahmud, King of Badakhshán, and of the race of Iskandar Zulkarnain. She had accompanied her son, Sultán Mahmud Khán, into Moghulistán. But those base advisers, of whom I have already spoken, provoked a quarrel between the mother and her son—a son who had been so obedient to her, that he had never even mounted for a ride without her permission. Between these two, they contrived to raise the dust of vexation and wrath. For they—cunning advisers that they were—decided to send Sháh Begum to Sháhi Beg Khán to solicit a country for herself, because she found living in Moghulistán distasteful. Such was the impracticable mission upon which they sent Sháh Begum. Now, as the Begum was a very sensible woman, she went under this pretext, and thus left her son, before those base advisers could bring about an open rupture, which would cause endless scandal and reproach to herself. The rumour was that she had gone to entreat [Sháhi Beg Khán], while she was [in reality] in Samarkand enjoying the company of her children.

At this same time [Sháhi Beg Khán] led an army into Khwárizm, and my father fled to Khorásán, as shall be presently related.

The Khán told me: “After the Mirzá's flight we were so overcome with apprehension, that sixteen of us having banded together, we fled from Samarkand, and journeyed by way of Khutuk and Kará Tukái to Sairám. Thence we went on to Moghulistán by way of Uzun Ahmad, and arrived at Haft Deh, which is better known as Yatikand,^180a where Sultán Mahmud Khán was living at the time.” It has been already related that after the death of Sultán Ahmad Khán, Sultán Mahmud Khán came into Moghul-istán. The latter was a weakly prince and very lax and careless in the affairs of State.

Now Moghulistán is a country which does not admit of any such negligence and callousness in its administration, and for this reason Sultán Mahmud Khán was not able to remain there long, but came, with a desire to live a civilised life, to Yatikand, where there is [indeed] some cultivation. When he had been there a short time, the Khán went and attached himself to his uncle, Sultán Mahmud Khán. The Khán passed some time in the service of his uncle; but he was an energetic and enterprising man, and being unable to endure the negligence and indolence of his uncle, he fled from his court. Sultán Mahmud Khán sent a party after him to bring him back. After three days' march he was overtaken, when a fight ensued. In the heat of the action, a certain Maksud Ali, one of the courtiers of Sultán Mahmud Khán (and a man skilled in instrumental music and singing), displayed great valour, and the Khán seeing that the brunt of the battle was supported by him, rode up to attack him. Thereupon Maksud Ali turned and fled, but while retreating faced round and shot an arrow, which struck the Khán in the left shoulder. The collarbone was broken, and passing under his left shoulder blade the arrow reached his right shoulder blade. [In this state the Khán tried to overtake Maksud Ali], but in spite of his efforts, his hand would not wield the sword, and his enemy got away in safety. The Khán then turned back [from the pursuit]. His wound proved very serious, and during two years he was deprived of the use of his right eye and his right arm.

Later in the day Maksud Ali fell into the hands of one of the Khán's men, who thought to himself: if I bring him alive to the Khán, that he may put him to death with his own hands, he will be more grateful to me [than if I bring him dead]. So he took him alive before the Khán. But the Khán, assuming a cheerful air, called to him and said: “I am glad you have fallen into my hands. I was sorry [for what had happened].” And although he had only one garment by him, he gave it him, together with a present of some horses, and kept him in Moghulistán to the end of his days, always looking on him with the eye of favour.

The Khán's generosity was quite unbounded. Other examples will be given in their proper places. In short, after being wounded and enduring great hardships, he joined his brother Sultán Khalil Sultán. This latter, after the death of his father, had fled from Mansur Khán into Moghulistán, and had joined the Kirghiz, who are the “wild lions” of that country. They made him their chief. He remained some time with his brother, but finally war broke out between them on the one hand, and Sultán Mahmud Khán, in alliance with Mansur Khán, on the other, which led to victories and defeats, struggles and conflicts, and great and wonderful battles. In those fights such wounds were inflicted, that no reasonable person would consider them capable of being cured. But the details are not worth describing. These hostilities continued from 910 to 914, when Sultán Mahmud Khán, being hard pressed by his nephews and the people of Moghulistán, went over to Sháhi Beg Khán (as has been related). Mansur Khán then attacked his two brothers, Sultán Said Khán and Sultán Khalil Sultán, who had remained in Moghulistán. They, for their part, met him in the open field at Almátu,^182a one of the most celebrated places in Moghulistán, when after a hard fought battle the Sultáns were worsted.

Sultán Khalil Sultán, all his prospects of success in Moghulistán being shattered, followed his uncle [Mahmud], in the hope that Sháhi Beg Khán had received the latter kindly; and when he reached Akhsi, Jáni Beg Khán having seized [him] delivered him to my uncle Sayyid Muhammad Mirzá, Sultán Ali Mirzá Begjik and Tubra Tiághuth, [with the order] that he should be drowned in the river. They, being obliged to obey this order, drowned the unfortunate Sultán in the river of Akhsi. It will be mentioned later, how the Khán, a short time after this event, heaped favours and patronage upon those men whose brother he had murdered.

When the Khán escaped from the field of battle, he was accompanied by about fifty men with their cattle and followers, all in great want. Broken and discomfited, they came from Almátu to Dulán (about fifteen days' march at a medium pace). On arriving there, they began to grow less afraid of the enemy. That same day, they came across a man whom they seized and interrogated. He informed them that at Uruk, which was distant about three days' march, at an even pace, there was encamped a body of the tribe of Bahrin, who intended to go to Káshghar and seek the protection of Mirzá Abá Bakr. “And I,” he added, “have fled, and am on my way to join the Kirghiz.” They then all sat down [and held a consultation]. Some suggested that the Khán should himself go and mix with that tribe: haply by that means he would obtain a little help from them. And Khwája Ali Bahádur, in particular, urged this plan (for he was himself of the tribe of Bahrin), and he was, moreover, a bold and daring man, and an unrivalled archer. When the Khán fled from Samarkand and entered the service of his noble uncle Sultán Mahmud Khán, Khwája Ali Bahádur was in Yatikand, in the service of one of the officers of Sultán Mahmud Khán. When the Khán arrived, he entered [his uncle's] service with the greatest eagerness. On the occasion of the Khán's flight, when he received the arrow-wound from Maksud Ali, the musician, Khwája Ali Bahádur, had displayed great valour in the contest, and had shown proofs of singular daring, which did not escape the notice of the Khán, who, from that day forward, bestowed on him his special protection and favour. In the battles that took place in Moghulistán, he usually distinguished himself by his heroic acts. But besides his bravery and prowess, he was also noted for his sagacity, intelligence, and perception; wherefore at that time most [of the Khán's] affairs were submitted to him for decision.

Now as he was strongly in favour of the proposed plan, [while all the rest objected to it], Khwája Ali represented that if the Khán went with a body of men, [the Bahrin] would be frightened, and think he had come to attack them. It was impossible to drive these ridiculous ideas out of their minds, which had become a prey to the whispering of devils; and it seemed that a new cause of dissension and violence would arise. [The Khwája] thought the wisest plan was that he, in preference to any of the other followers, should be selected to accompany the Khán. He suggested that they should remain where they were for five days, to see if they would approve of his going. If, thus, their minds could be pacified and their vain fears and foolish ideas be changed to good faith and confidence—well and good. “If not,” said he, “let us all go, as quickly as possible, and make common cause with [the Bahrin].”^184a

This suggestion was approved, and the Khán and Khwája Ali set out together. They made a three days' journey, passing only one night on the road, and arrived at their destination at breakfast time.

When these dastardly men heard of their arrival, they came with unbounded impudence before him, not observing any of those marks of respect which are customary among the Moghuls. Then Khwája Ali addressing them said: “All adventurous persons who have obtained their desires, have watched for a favourable opportunity to seize with both hands the skirts of men of power.” While his words were yet unfinished, they cried out: “Down with this babbler of idle words! What use has a Khán for a hundred households? We have nothing to offer him!” So saying they drove the Khán back to his friends, and seized Khwája Ali; they took away the led horse of the Khán, which he was holding, and threw its bridle towards the Khán. On seizing Khwája Ali, they carried him off to their tents.

The Khán, in alarm for his life, fled back with all speed, fearing lest they might take him and deliver him into the hands of Abá Bakr. Being terrified at this idea, he hastened to rejoin his men, looking round him on all sides as he went [to see whether he was being pursued].

Once, when the Khán was relating this story, I asked him: “Did you not dread [the thought of] solitude and desolation?” He replied: “Not so very much, for I had once before been left alone in Moghulistán, and had spent some days in solitude, in the same way, but afterwards joined my people again.”

When he had gone a short way, he perceived something black in the distance; whereupon he withdrew to a secluded spot and, fastening his led horse there, stood waiting in ambush. He soon discovered that it was a man, and waited till he came near; then, placing an arrow [in readiness] in his bow, he leapt out of his ambush upon the new-comer, who had no time to get away, but threw himself in terror from his horse. The Khán then recognised that this man was the slave who had fled to the Kirghiz from his own party, who had been captured at Dulán, and had given information of [the presence of] those dastardly people [the Bahrin]. He, on his part, recognised the Khán, and kissed his stirrup.

The Khán asked him for news of his men, and where they were now encamped. The man replied: “When you went away with Khwája Ali Bahádur, a dispute arose among your men. It came about in this way. Somebody said: ‘Last night I happened to be near the Khán's tent, when I heard Khwája Ali Bahádur say to the Khán: Our people are in a very broken condition [and there is nothing to be done with them]; they have hardly anything left; but our opponents have cattle and property in abundance, because every one of [the Khán's] dependants is either a Mir or a Mirzáda, and wishes to have power and precedence over others, which they cannot possibly obtain. Moreover, we cannot attain any object or carry out any scheme by means of such people. It will be best for us, therefore, for the reasons I have given, to separate from these men and to go and join the other side. Let these people go wherever they choose, while we avail ourselves in every possible way of the services of our opponents. And with this plan the Khán will be greatly pleased. [I tell you] the Khán does not intend to return.’

“At these words the people became very despondent and grieved; and each one, forming whatever plan seemed best to himself, they split up into factions. One party under the leadership of Uchku Muhammad Mirzá, Sháh Mirák and Zikul Bahádur, set out for Turfán, the capital of Mansur Khán. Another division under Kará Kulák, took the road to Andiján, in the hope that the Kháns who had preceeded them had been well received by Sháhi Beg Khán. And a third division, under the direction of Khush Gildi Kukildásh and Aziz Birdi Aghá, resolved to go to the court of Mirzá Abá Bakr in Káshghar. Thus did they form themselves into different parties.”

The Khán used always to say: “When I learnt these facts, I was filled with amazement and alarm. Dismay took possession of my mind. I asked him how many days ago this had happened; he replied that on the particular day he had left them, the discussion had taken place, and they had separated.

“I then dismounted, and for a while remained buried in thought. At length I resolved to leave my horse in the impenetrable jungles of Nárin, and myself to lie in ambush for antelopes; and when I had killed them, to eat their flesh and to clothe myself with their skins; thus I would spend several years, until I should see how events might fall out.

“With this intention, having withdrawn my led horse to one side, I set out on my road.”

[It must be understood that] it is a custom among the Moghuls, for the bravest of their youth to spend a long time alone, either in the deserts, the mountains or the forests, at a distance of one or two months' journey from any of their fellow creatures, and to feed and clothe themselves with the flesh and skins of antelopes. Such persons they esteem as brave and manly; and it is, in fact, a very difficult and dangerous mode of life.

[The Khán] having resolved upon this strange and perilous adventure, gave the slave his liberty, and set out on his own design. He spent the night in what he considered a suitable spot, and on the morrow again started on his road. But first of all he surveyed the country, in accordance with the Moghul practice of circumspection and caution. For it is their custom, in the morning, to examine carefully the road by which they have just come, and also to reconnoitre that by which they intend to travel the same day; the travellers having ascended a piece of rising ground, and having carefully inspected both the roads, then give some fodder to their horses, which have been tethered all night. The purpose of this vigilance which they practise is, that if anybody should happen to be following them, and should have come on during the night, he would be seen, and could be guarded against. When the horses have grazed long enough, and no one is visible in either direction, the road is again taken at midday, and the journey continued till midnight, so that no one may discover the traveller or his nightly resting-place. Such is the cautious practice of the Moghuls.

The Khán, looking round carefully on all sides, after a short time descried something black on the road by which he had come the day before, and began to fear lest those tribesmen, regretting that they had let him go, were come in pursuit of him. But he presently saw that it was only one person, and that there was no one behind him, as far as he could see. Then, as was his practice, he placed himself in ambush. He noticed that this man was ever and again uttering cries, as if calling for somebody. And as he came nearer [the Khán] recognised his voice as that of Khwájá Ali Bahádur. He rushed out to meet him, and the Khwája, also recognising the Khán, dismounted, and they both began to weep as they met in affectionate embrace.

One can imagine the extent of the Khán's joy at this meeting. Having made an end of weeping, [the Khán] asked the Khwája where he had been and what had befallen him. The Khwája replied: “They carried me off and kept my horse, and placed me in the house of one of my acquaintances. After a while a decrepit and frail old woman, who claimed a blood relationship with me, came to me secretly and began to heap reproaches on my head, saying: ‘Some have been known to serve a Khán yet unborn, or an Amir still in his cradle, and to have reaped their reward; yet you, with your lack of zeal, have deserted a great Khán, who is worthy of a throne and a crown, and in your sluggishness have debased yourself. Rise up: if you have not a horse, I have left mine tied up in such and such a place: take it and go!’ Then my old enthusiasm, which seemed to have died within me, revived: I hastened out and went to the spot she had indicated, found the horse, and here I am.”

The Khán, having bestowed thanks and praises on him, said: “When I found myself alone, I resolved upon the following plan” (and the Khán proceeded to relate to him, from beginning to end, what has been told above). Khwája Ali Bahádur replied: “Peace on you! It was a most excellent resolve for a brave man like yourself, under existing circumstances. And it is all the better that it should have been so. But now it is possible to proceed with greater comfort and ease. However, even if we do spend a few years in this way, we must get news of the world whenever we can; for the wheel of the spheres does not always turn in the same groove, and we must be on the look out for any opportunity that may arise to again obtain the control of affairs. We must also be bold.”

The two then set out with strong hearts and cheerful spirits, riding bridle to bridle. On the following day they noticed in front of them some black objects: and the same care and precautions were observed as on the other occasion. As the objects approached, they recognised the two brothers of Khwája Ali Bahádur, Tika and Ali Mirák, and two of his sons-in-law, Asil Pulád and Buzana [each one accompanied by his servant].

After this meeting, the Khán's position was as sovereignty compared with that of the day before. The new-comers were then asked their story. They related what has been mentioned above, and added: “Khush Gildi and Aziz Birdi, who had determined to go to Káshghar, separated from us yesterday.” With these two came Sukár and some of the Káluchi (who were relatives of a certain woman of the name of Makhtum, with whom, during the time of the great disturbances in Moghulistán, the Khán had contracted a marriage), and they brought with them several horses from the royal stables.

Having announced this news, the whole party set out in pursuit without delay, and came upon the fugitives towards the end of the night; when these heard the sound of the hoofs of the approaching horses, they were filled with dismay and alarm. The Khán and his companions called out to each one by name, and they, recognising his voice and that of the others, were filled with joy. They came, running, to the stirrup of his Excellency the Khan and, kissing his feet, gave vent to expressions of thankfulness.

The Khán, being rejoined by Khwája Ali, was relieved of the distress of solitude, but now, on falling in with Tika and his party, he had become a veritable king, compared with his former position. When, under the guidance of these men, they had rejoined the party who had separated from them, the Khán was overjoyed at the prospect of a meeting with a slave, who was his wife. All were delighted at coming together again, and hoped that that night they would enjoy a refreshing sleep. The Khán, in the same hope, had already taken off his boots and coat, when Aziz Birdi Aghá came and persuaded him to put them on again. Although it was apparently a trouble to do so, it was at least a fitting precaution, so he consented, in order to quiet Aziz Birdi, and with one boot off [and one boot on] he slumbered peacefully on the breast of his wife. For he had taken no rest for several nights and days, and was exceedingly fatigued from rough travelling and watchful nights. The full enjoyment of sleep had not yet come to him, when he heard a war cry [suran] and the sound of giving and taking of blows. Before the Khán could jump out of bed, he saw by the light of the burning camp that the enemy were upon them, and were dealing out blows to right and left. He had just time to gird on his quiver, when Khwája Ali arrived. They rushed together, from the blazing camp into the darkness, and began to shower down arrows upon the enemy who were doing their work in the light, and in the same way, the men from the camp came out on all sides into the darkness, and began to discharge their arrows. The enemy, who were all mounted, then withdrew from the light, and the Khán's men, who were on foot, shot at them from different ambuscades. On account of the darkness it was not possible to judge of the great numbers of the one side or the small numbers of the other. Some of the men, in imitation of the Khán, were engaged in discharging arrows, while the rest had gone back to secure the horses.

As a fact, this hostile band was part of an army which Mirzá Abá Bakr had sent to Moghulistán, with orders to seize and treat, in the worst possible way, any one who might be found in the deserts of Moghulistán. The continual raids of these followers of Mirzá Abá Bakr caused great distress in Moghulistán, and threw the Moghuls and Kirghiz into disorder. [The assailants] who were a division of the force spoken of, had come on at the time of afternoon prayer, and when they had seen the Khán's party arrive and halt, they had crept into concealment till late in the night. They then seized all the horses, which had been turned out to graze, and when darkness was nearly over they made their night attack. There were no horses left in the camp^188a except a few fat animals, which had been retained for purposes of war. These were saddled, and mounted by the men, and some of the women of the Khán's haram; while two or three other women were sent off by their husbands, who found horses for them. The Khán's horse was saddled and brought to him. When day dawned all were in the greatest straits. Moreover, except for the two or three women already mentioned, all the wives and children of our party had fallen into the enemy's hands, and there was no time to take leave or bid farewell. The scar of disappointment was marked upon their foreheads, and they never saw each other more. But those who fled, drove their wives and men and horses before them. The Khán and all those who had any courage and strength, followed after them. The cursed enemy came close on their heels, and pursued them with the greatest ardour, being, moreover, supplied with changes of horses.

Whenever the enemy approached, the Khán with a few men, turned round and plied them with arrows, and kept them at bay until his own party had got well on, when he again let loose the reins of flight till he overtook them. Thus did they fly fighting; and shot their arrows with their faces towards their friends and their backs to their enemies. This state of affairs continued till the hour of the “prayer of sleep.” The night attack took place in the desert plains [chulgái] of Utluk, which are called Ankghun Archa, and by the time of the “prayer of sleep” they had reached Kumala Káchur,^189a which represents a distance of five days' journey at a medium pace. The feeble ones, both women and men, at the time of flight and distress, were concealed in the glens and forests, while the rest hid themselves wherever they thought most safe.

With the exception of the Khán's wife and two or three other women, and a few men who had remained, most of these people were captured; only a few escaped. When evening-prayer time came, fear of the enemy left them but little peace of mind. They were all scattered, every one hiding in the jungle of Kumala Káchur; and from the excess of their terror, some of those whose horses were tired out, left them and crept into the forest on foot.

When day dawned, they all came out onto an elevation, and still concealing themselves, looked carefully round. They could see no trace of the enemy. They waited patiently till midday, when wherever they happened to be, they called out, and by means of their cries were able to find one another; [they also found] those whom they had sent into the glens, and of whose fate they were till then ignorant, not knowing whether they had been captured or not.

Returning, they looked to see what had become of these people. They found that, excepting the Khán's wife [haram] and one or two other persons, all had been discovered and carried off captive. They remained where they were during that day, for they had not sufficient strength left to proceed. Moreover, they did not know whither they could go. They discussed the matter in all its aspects: every one made suggestions, and held his own views upon the matter; but all their plans were quite impracticable. One proposition was that they should live in the forests, and banish from their thoughts all desire for civilisation. This, however, was not considered to be feasible, as it was impossible to exist in the forests without the [necessary] weapons, etc. After seeking everywhere, they found that all their quivers were empty. At last they found one arrow in the Khán's quiver: in the rest there were none left but tir-i-gaz.^190a [And with only one arrow there was certainly nothing to be achieved, so perforce this idea must be banished from their minds. Another proposal was that] they should enter the Dasht-i-Kipchák, which at that time was an asylum and refuge of the Moghul Kháns. But this again was impossible, on account of their want of arrows [and other weapons. A third suggestion was that they should go to Káshghar. But they came to the conclusion that] to go to Káshghar was as good as to walk, living, into a grave.

With Mansur Khán it was but yesterday that they had fought a battle, and all their sufferings and calamities were due to him. At length they decided upon going to Andiján; for it was possible that Sháhi Beg Khán had given Sultán Mahmud Khán a favourable reception.

The Khán repeatedly related these details to me, and he used to add: “Those who advised our going to the country of Sháhi Beg Khán, did so out of their ignorance of his true character. However strongly those who knew him protested, and pointed out the absurdity and danger of the scheme, which the others had made appear so plausible, they would not be dissuaded. I, for my part, showed my objections and disapproval in a hundred ways; for had I not been a whole year with Sháhi Beg Khán? I well knew and understood his temperament, the ways of his Sultáns, and the intentions of his Amirs. I knew very well that he would ill-treat us, which he did, but when I said this to these ignorant men, they replied: ‘Then what is to be done? All our proposals are considered impracticable or impossible! [But in going to Sháhi Beg Khán] there is some hope of safety. If anything else suggests itself to your enlightened mind, tell us of it: for in every matter we are willing to follow and obey you, mind and body.’ Much as I thought the matter over, I was unable to find a solution of the difficulty, or offer any other suggestion; and finally I, with my eyes open, and in spite of what I knew, became myself a promoter of that very plan for which I had so severely reproved my men. For, in truth, there was no choice left. Knowingly and deliberately I rushed upon calamity!

“On the morrow, having prepared myself for death and my heart for martyrdom, I set out to pay homage to Jáni Beg Sultán, which was the first step to entering the service of Sháhi Beg Khán. And there was no great difference between that stage^191a and the bottom of the tomb.”

These events took place in the year 914,^191b just two months after the murder of Sultán Mahmud Khán, and one month before Sultán Khalil Sultán was drowned in the ocean of mercy, all of which has been mentioned above. Sultán Khalil Sultán was the full brother of the Khán.

At this date Bábar Pádisháh was established on the throne of Kábul, and his power was nearly absolute.

Having reached this point in the Khán's story, it is necessary for the better understanding of the history, that I should now revert to the stories of my father and Bábar Pádisháh.

FLIGHT OF MY FATHER MUHAMMAD HUSAIN KURKÁN FROM BEFORE SHÁHI BEG KHÁN INTO KHORÁSÁN; WITH SOME INCIDENTAL BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICES.

IT has been related above, how Kunduz submitted without resistance, on the advent of the victorious army of Mahmud Sultán; also how I, after being confined in prison by Khusrau Sháh for a year, obtained my release, went and joined my father, and together with all the members of my family, proceeded to Shahr-i-Sabz, which Sháhi Beg Khán had given to my father [together with its dependencies].

In the beginning of Sagittarius, Sháhi Beg Khán marched on Khwárizm.

All the heads of the Moghuls, whether Sultáns or Amirs, together with their train, were dwelling among the Uzbegs, and fear and apprehension continually occupied their hearts.

In the meanwhile, Mahmud Sultán, who had always been a defender of the Moghuls, died in Kunduz, whereat all the Moghuls, and especially my father, were much afflicted and saddened. For Mahmud Sultán had borne him such love, and had bestowed so much kindness on him, that if ever one of Sháhi Beg Khán's nobles wrote a letter of cruelty or violence upon the tablet of the imagination concerning my father, he would draw a line through it with the pen of his protection; or else would erase this writing from the tablet of the rancorous heart of the evil-minded man, with the penknife of punishment. In fact, he recognised it as his duty to side with my father in all things. His death was a source of great uneasiness to the Moghuls in general, and to my father in particular. But Sháhi Beg Khán said privately to Amir Ján Vafá, who was an intimate friend of my father, that he would on no account whatever leave Khwárizm until he had reduced it, and it was clear that the siege^192a would be a very protracted one:—“There are, at the present moment, about 30,000 Moghuls among our Uzbegs. So long as any of the Moghul chiefs remain, these men will continue to serve them, and never enter our service. If a favourable occasion presents itself, they will do to us that which we did to them. The first among them is Muhammad Husain Kurkán; I think of him all day, but feel that to kill him would be like killing one of the Kháns—an act that would obliterate all the kindnesses I have ever shown the Kháns. Hence, it will be best for you to announce to him my intention, so that he may rise up with all speed and escape while he has yet a foot [to walk upon], and no longer tempt his fate. For after his departure, I must make all the other Moghul Amirs feel the blood-drinking scimitar.”

Amir Ján Vafá immediately sent a messenger, who reached my father at the hour of midday prayer, and by the time of afternoon prayer my father, having chosen me from among his children to accompany him, together with sixteen of his servants, fled towards Khorásán. This event remains fixed in my mind like a dream or a fantasy.

In those days Sultán Said Khán was also in Samarkand. Three days after [our flight] he fled to Moghulistán; but this story has been told above.

Of those children whom my father left behind him in Shahr-i-Sabz, the eldest was Habiba Sultán Khánish; Sháhi Beg Khán kept her in his haram at Táshkand, where he also kept Aisha Sultán Khánim, the daughter of Sultán Mahmud Khán, and who is nowadays better known as Moghul Khánim. After a while he married her, with various ceremonies, to Abdullah Khán, son of Mahmud Sultán.

[2.] Next in age was Ganhar Shah Begum, whom Amir Ján Vafá obtained, in marriage, for his own son Amir Yár, in return for having carried the message to my father.

[3.] I come next. I accompanied my father.

[4.] Another was Muhammad Sháh, whom one of my father's relations had taken after my father into Khorásán.

[5.] The youngest of all was Abdulláh Mirza, who has been mentioned above, as having accompanied his mother, Sultánim Begum. I shall tell his life in these pages.

In short, we left Shahr-i-Sabz, and, passing one night on the road, reached, at the close of [the second] day, the banks of the River Amuya; the cold was very severe and we only succeeded in crossing with great difficulty; without entering Balkh, we went on to Khorásán.

Those were the last days of the life and reign of Mirzá Sultán Husain, who was a grandson of Mirzá Jahángir,^193a son of Amir Timur. None of his ancestors, as far back as Amir Timur, had attained to sovereignty. Mirzá Sultán Husain, however, had, after many years of struggles and hardships, won Khorásán at the point of the sword, and during forty-eight years, while firmly established on the throne of Herat, he governed the four quarters of Khorásán. He encouraged all the arts and crafts of the world to such a degree that in every separate profession he produced an unsurpassed master.

Having reached this point, I meditated and felt that I ought to write something concerning these lords of revelation and masters of manifestation, who lived at this time. And though I did not, with my lack of capacity, seem fit for the task, yet strange to say, I could not see my way to omit recording one or two circumstances in relation to these men. In any case I will make a beginning, in the hope that, with the aid of existing memoirs [tazkira], which shall supplement the deficiencies of my humble reed, it may prove worthy of the perusal of the clear-sighted.

As it does not lie in my power to write a separate book in memory of these men, I have in this Epitome only devoted a few lines to some of them, in order to satisfy my mind and to calm my inner man. [Quatrain]…^194a

He was far the greatest and most excellent and learned of all the saints and spiritual guides of the time of Mirzá Sultán Husain.

He is much too great to stand in need of any mention from my humble pen; so I will simply trace his discipleship. He was a disciple of Mauláná Sad-ud-Din Káshghari, disciple of Mauláná Nizam-ud-Din Khámushi, disciple of Khwájá Alá-ud-Din Attár, disciple of His Holiness the Kibla of the Pious, Khwájá Bahá 'ul Hakk va ud-Din, generally known as Khwájá Nakshband.

He belonged to one of the most noble families in the country of Káshghar, and his race had produced Ulamás, and many pious and devout men and saints. Among whom was Shaikh Habib, the disciple of Shaikh Sayyid Kárdgar, disciple of Shaikh Mohibb Mujarrad.^194b

Amir Sayyid Ahmad, my great-great-grandfather, placed his son Mir Sayyid Ali in the service of Shaikh Habib, when he was very young.

I have heard from a certain distinguished person that [even] before Mauláná Nizám-ud-Din became a disciple of Khwájá Alá-ud-Din he was an exceedingly pious and chaste man. He used to sit in the mosque of the Lawyers, and was an admirer of the spirituality of the Shaikh.

He performed many miracles, as is related in the Nafahát ul 'uns.

My father arrived in Khorásán at the time when its pomp and splendour and learning were at their highest, and the fame of Herat and its people was spread over the world.

At that time the sons of Mirzá Sultán Husain, who had revolted against their illustrious father, had repented and had been allowed to kiss his feet, and they now surrounded the Mirzá's throne with honour and respect.

When my father arrived in Herat, the people came out to receive him, and attended his passage with honour. They then conducted him to a magnificent residence—worthy of his rank—which they had made ready for him.

[When my father went to pay his respects to Mirzá Sultán Husain], Mir Muhammad Baranduk Barlás, who had been one of the Amirs of Sháh Rukh and who, at that time, in respect of age, rank, understanding, intelligence, and knowledge of the laws and customs, had not his equal among the whole of the Chaghatái Ulus, came and spoke to my father about kneeling at the audience. My father agreed to his proposals. The Mirzá also showed my father great honour, and placed him above all his children, even above his son Bádi-uz-Zamán, who was the eldest and most respected of the Mirzá's sons. In this city, which might have been compared to Paradise, my father commanded the utmost respect and distinction, and enjoyed every possible luxury.

The Mirzá, for his personal satisfaction, had determined on an alliance between one of his granddaughters and my father. The latter did not approve of this connection, because the Mirzá was very old and afflicted with paralysis and gout, and the power of his children would not be such that, when they succeeded their father, they would be able to cope with Sháhi Beg Khán. Nevertheless, as it had been arranged, he contracted the marriage.

In the meanwhile, Sháh Begum, as has been mentioned above, went from Moghulistán to Samarkand with a petition for Sháhi Beg Khán. The latter was intent on the conquest of Khwárizm, which was a dependency of Mirzá Sultán Husain. It was on Sháhi Beg Khán's warning that my father had fled to Khorásán, and Sultán Said Khán had taken refuge in Moghulistán. Most of the Moghul chiefs had gone to the kingdom of the next world, while some had been thrown into confinement. Sháh Begum was banished and sent to Khorásán. The rest of the Moghuls accompanied the expedition into Khwárizm.

In enumerating the names of the children of Yunus Khán, I mentioned that the eldest was Mihr Nigár Khánim, who married Sultán Ahmad Mirzá, king of Samarkand. When Sháhi Beg Khán seized and put to death Sultán Ali Mirzá and subdued Samarkand, he married Mihr Nigár Khánim. When he besieged Bábar Pádisháh in that city, for the last time, and compelled him to capitulate, he demanded Khánzáda Begum. Bábar Pádisháh gave up Khánzáda Begum in exchange for his own life, and escaped, as has been mentioned. Now as Mihr Nigár Khánim was maternal aunt to Khánzáda Begum, and as it was unlawful for both to be wedded to the same man, he divorced Mihr Nigár Khánim, and married Khánzáda Begum. The Khánim had dwelt in Samarkand. When Sháh Begum was sent to Khorásán, the Khánim accompanied her mother-in-law. My father had a maternal aunt, who had remained in Shahr-i-Sabz, whither many of her connections had fled: she, having taken my brother Muhammad Sháh with her, came with the Begum and the Khánim to Khorásán.

Before the arrival of this party, my father resolved to make the Pilgrimage of the Hijáz, but when they joined him he gave up this intention, thinking that they would be in danger if left alone in a strange land. He then decided to remove them to Kábul, where Bábar Pádisháh was, as has been related. Sháh Begum was the stepmother of the Emperor's mother; Mihr Nigár Khánim was his maternal aunt.

In short, having, with this intention, obtained leave to depart from Mirzá Sultán Husain, they set out for Kábul. A few days before they reached Kábul the mother of Bábar Pádisháh, Kutluk Nigár Khánim, died, and her death was a great misfortune to all. In spite of his mourning, Bábar Pádisháh came out to receive them, and gave the party a warm welcome, accompanied by every honour that he was able to show them. Here they spent some time in the greatest ease and comfort.

Soon after this, came news of the death of Mirzá Sultán Husain. In the natural order of things, and in conformity with recognised custom and practice, Mirzá Bádi-uz-Zamán should have succeeded his father on the throne. But Khadija Begum, one of the late Sultán's wives, who was at the head of a factious party, succeeded in getting Muzaffar Husain Mirzá, who was her own son, to share the government with Mirzá Bádi-uz-Zamán. This she did, in spite of the objections of the wise men of the time [who were at last compelled to consent to the unstable arrangement] which was in consequence carried out.

In the meantime, Jahángir Mirzá, who was in Ghazni, being discontented with the narrow limits of his territories, marched for Khorásán. [At the same time] he sent a petition to the Emperor, saying: “Sultán Husain Mirzá has lately departed this life. It has occurred to me that, at this crisis, I should go and offer my help and alliance to his sons. Probably I may be able to help them in some way.” When this petition reached Bábar Pádisháh, he at once set out, with the intention that if he fell in with Jahángir Mirzá on the road, he would turn him back, or if not, would pursue his brother into Khorásán. [In either case] he would not be long in ascertaining what schemes Mirzá Jahángir had in his mind. As soon as the Emperor had resolved on this plan, he came to my father's house, and asked him to undertake the management of Kábul and its dependencies. My father would not accept the invitation, but said, in excuse: “When in Khorásán, I resolved to undertake the Pilgrimage; if I were to bind myself to the measure you propose, my resolution would be to no purpose. Let this business be entrusted to one of your great Amirs, and I will render him assistance to the utmost extent of my ability.” The Emperor then sent for Nizám-ud-Din Ali Khalifa Mauláná Bábá Bishághari, Amir Ahmad Kásim Kuhbur,^197a and one or two other of his [trustworthy] chiefs, and after complimenting [my father], said to him: “I am about to start for Khorásán, having the most perfect reliance on you. These Amirs will conduct the different affairs of the State under your general supervision.” Having thus spoken, and after further compliments, he set out for Khorásán.

AFTER the Emperor's departure for Khorásán, up till the middle of the winter, all was order and quiet in Kábul. He, however, stayed away a long while, and various reports began to circulate; the main roads were also blocked by the Hazára highwaymen.

In the list, given above, of the children of Yunus Khán, it was stated that he had five daughters and two sons.

By his wife, Isán Daulat Begum, he had three daughters: [1.] Mihr Nigár Khánim, who has been already mentioned as being at this time in Kábul; having accompanied Sháh Begum from Samarkand. [2.] Kutluk Nigár Khánim, the mother of the Emperor, who died just before the arrival of Sháh Begum, the Khánim and my father, in Kábul. [3.] My mother, who died during the interval of peace [amáni] in Táshkand, which has been mentioned.

By Sháh Begum he had four children: [1] Sultán Mahmud Khán; [2] Sultán Ahmad Khán; [3] Sultán Nigár Khánim, who was the wife of Mirzá Sultán Mahmud (son of Mirzá Sultán Abu Said) and the mother of Mirzá Khán; and [4] Daulat Sultán Khánim, who was wife of Timur Sultán, son of Sháhi Beg Khán. All of these have been mentioned before. From this it will be seen that Sháh Begum was step-grandmother^198a to both the Emperor and myself; and [actual] grandmother to Mirzá Khán. After the defeat of the Kháns, when the Emperor went to the hill country of Hisár, he was there joined by Mirzá Khán, who accompanied him wherever he went. And the Emperor looked upon him as his own son; for, as has been explained, Mirzá Khán's father and mother were of the same family as the Emperor's father and mother.

On account of straitened circumstances [Mirzá Khán] did not accompany the Emperor on that expedition, but stayed behind in the service of his grandmother Sháh Begum. As various reports came in concerning the Emperor and the Mirzás of Khorásán, the motherly love of Sháh Begum began to burn in her heart, and she persuaded herself that the Emperor had fallen into the hands of the Mirzás of Khorásán. Also, on account of the enmity that existed between Sultán Husain Mirzá and Abu Said Mirzá, and the bloodshed which had resulted therefrom, [she thought] that the Emperor would never escape from their power. Moreover, reports which seemed to confirm this view were constantly arriving; and it was considered time to put Mirzá Khán upon the throne in the Emperor's place.

When this plan was suggested to my father, he would not hear of it. An altercation followed which led to much sorrow; and the distress of Sháh Begum gave offence to the Kháns. All this brought much trouble upon my father, who at last, being exasperated, said: “As you will not be warned by me, I will no longer be your adviser.” Nevertheless, the Emperor's Amirs, who used to come daily out of the castle to wait on my father, continued to come, as was their wont. After one month's bickering and quarrelling, Sháh Begum had quite resolved to set Mirzá Khán up in the Emperor's place.^198b My father [then] said privately to the Amirs, that it was not necessary for them to come to him any more. When the Amirs re-entered the castle, my father went away to a place called Áb-Báran, which is a day's march from Kábul, and withdrew himself from public affairs. Sháh Begum and some Moghuls [then] read the Khutba in the name of Mirzá Khán, and did their utmost to seize the fort of Kábul; whereupon numerous fights ensued. Sháh Begum sent a letter of entreaty to my father to return, and as entreaties and remonstrances were unlimited, my father could not choose but come. During twenty-four days they laid siege to the castle of Kábul; and in the course of these operations the Emperor himself arrived.^199a

WHEN Bábar Pádisháh went in pursuit of Jahángir, he came upon him in the mountains of Hazára. After holding a consultation, it was determined that the wisest plan would be to proceed into Khorásán, as with some aid, the sons of Sultán Husain Mirzá might be enabled to withstand Sháhi Beg Khán. So with this object in view, they turned towards Khorásán, and, on their arrival, these two brothers were warmly welcomed by the people of Khorásán, while the two Mirzás, for their part, were overjoyed at their advent. But there existed no accord between these two Mirzás. In the first place, Bábar Pádisháh knew that they were not at one; he also knew that without unity they could effect nothing. Moreover, Jahángir Mirzá, from having indulged too freely in wine drinking, was suffering so severely from dysentery, [from a disease called] mui, and a burning fever, that it was generally reported that Khadija Begum (after her old fashion) had put poison in his wine. For these and other reasons, he took his leave and returned to Kábul.

On reaching the Hazára mountains, he learnt that Mirzá Khán and Muhammad Husain Mirzá were besieging Kábul. Leaving the heavy baggage with Mirzá Jahángir (who, being sick, was travelling in a litter) he advanced with all possible speed towards the passes of Hindu Kush, accompanied by a small body of men. [The passes] were covered with snow. They, however, crossed them with much difficulty, and advanced, by forced marches, upon Kábul. At dawn one day they made a rapid descent upon the town. Those who were outside the fort of Kábul, and had been attacking those within, crept into concealment on every side, while those who were within, rushed out and carried off, as plunder, all that fell in their way, both within and without [the walls]. The Emperor, in conformity with his affectionate nature, without ceremony, and without a sign of bitterness—nay, with the utmost cheerfulness and good-humour—came into the presence of his step-grandmother, who had withdrawn her affection from him, and set up her grandson as king in his stead. Sháh Begum was confounded and abashed [at his generous behaviour] and knew not what to say.

The Emperor, going down on his knees, embraced her with great affection, and said: “What right has one child to be vexed because the motherly bounty descends upon another? The mother's authority over her children is in all respects absolute.” He added: “I have not slept all night, and have made a long journey.” So saying, he laid his head on Sháh Begum's breast and tried to sleep; he acted thus in order to reassure the Begum. He had scarcely fallen asleep, when his maternal aunt, Mihr Nigár Khánim, entered. The Emperor leapt up and embraced his beloved aunt with every manifestation of affection. The Khánim said to him: “Your children, wives and household are longing to see you. I give thanks that I have been permitted to behold you once again. Rise up and go to your family in the castle. I too am going thither.”

So he went to the castle, and on his arrival all the Amirs and people began to thank God for His mercy. They made the dust of the feet of that loving king, powder [kohl] for their eyes. Then the Khánim conducted Mirzá Khán and my father before the Emperor. As they approached, the Emperor came out to receive them. The Khánim then said: “Oh, soul of your mother! I have also brought my guilty grandson and your unfortunate brother to you. What have you to say to them?” and she pointed to my father. When the Emperor saw my father, he instantly came forward, with his wonted courtesy, and smiling, openly embraced him, made many kind inquiries and showed him marked affection. He then embraced Mirzá Khán in like manner, and displayed a hundred proofs of love and good feeling. He conducted the whole ceremony with the utmost gentleness of manner, bearing himself, in all his actions and words, in such a way that not a trace of constraint or artifice was to be seen in them. But however much the Emperor might try to wear away the rust of shame with the polish of mildness and humanity, he was unable to wipe out the dimness of ignominy which had covered the mirror of their hopes.

My father and Mirzá Khán obtained permission to go to Kandahár. The Emperor, by entreaty and unremitting attentions, detained Sháh Begum and the Khánim. When they reached Kandahár, Mirza Khán remained there, while my father proceeded in the direction of Faráh and Sistán, with the intention of carrying out that holy resolve which he had made while in Khorásán. On his arrival in the territory of Faráh, he heard of the conquest of Khorásán, by Sháhi Beg Khán, and the overthrow of the Chaghatái. The high roads and passes were in a dangerous state, being obstructed and even closed. Thus my father was prevented from executing his purpose. This happened in the year 912.^201a

IT has been already related that the Emperor, in the year 909, conquered Kábul from Mukim, son of Zunnun Arghun. [On this expedition] he was accompanied by nearly 20,000 men of the army of Khusrau Sháh. Now as Kábul was unable to support so great a host, the Emperor resolved to invade Hindustán. But on that expedition, from ignorance of the roads, they frequently came to places where provisions were scarce, and most of their cattle perished. Although there was not a single battle in that campaign, yet the army suffered a severe reverse. On their return to Kábul, many of Khusrau Sháh's men deserted him. At this crisis Sháh Begum and my father arrived in Kábul, and the Emperor proceeded to Khorásán (as has been related above).

After we went to Kandahár, in consequence of all that had passed, the people were reduced to the most afflicting want and distress. In addition to this, Jahángir Mirzá, who was at that time the stay and support of the Emperor's government, died. After the occurrence of these events, he [the Emperor] wished to strengthen his power by whatever means were available, in order that he might be firmly and securely established in Kábul. To this end, he sent an envoy to Sháh Beg in Kandahár. Sháh Beg was the son of Zunnun Arghun, who was one of the greatest Amirs of Mirzá Sultán Husain, under whom he had, during thirty years, conducted the affairs of Kandahár and Zamindáwar. Although he was a brave and intelligent man, yet by denying himself everything, he amassed great wealth. He had gone in person to Khorásán to assist the Mirzás. When Sháhi Beg Khán attacked Herat, he alone went out to oppose the advance of the Uzbeg army, and in the engagement which ensued, he was slain. He was succeeded, in Kandahár, by his son Sháh Beg. [As has been stated] the Emperor sent an envoy to Sháh Beg, saying: “Since the children of Mirzá Sultán Husain have been extirpated, it is fitting that the gates of obedience and service should be opened, and at this time there is no one in the palace of our sovereignty, who is more worthy than yourself of occupying the highest post.” But in spite of all the Emperor's assurances and promises, Sháh Beg refused; for he had higher views of dignity than that of entering into a state of dependence. To be brief, this refusal led to an outbreak of hostilities. The Emperor marched to Kandahár, in the neighbourhood of which town a battle was fought, and that a very bloody one. Finally victory declared for the Emperor; the dust of flight filled the eyes of Sháh Beg's men, and they were thrown into such confusion that they were unable to enter the fort of Kandahár. Thus, without baggage, they crept on towards Sui,^202a and his good fortune was changed to desolation. So much treasure fell into the Emperor's hands, that [the gold and jewels] and Sháhrukhi^202b were divided among the army by the shieldful.

Mirzá Khán, who had stayed in Kandahár, now joined the Emperor, who returned to Kábul laden with much spoil and treasure, having left Sultán Násir Mirzá, younger brother of Jahángir Mirzá, in charge of Kandahár.

On his return to Kábul [important] news came from Badakhshán. When the country of Khusrau Sháh^203a was annexed by the Uzbeg, some of the people of Badakhshán refused to submit, and on several occasions put the Uzbeg army to flight, wherefore every commander of 1000 men [mir hazári] attained the rank of Sardar, and placed the heads of the Uzbeg on their pikes.^203b Their leader was Zobir Rághi.^203c

Sháh Begum laid claim to Badakhshán, saying: “It has been our hereditary kingdom for 3000 years.^203d Though I, being a woman, cannot myself attain to the sovereignty, yet my grandson Mirzá Khán can hold it. Males descended from me and my children will certainly not be rejected.” The Emperor assented, and Sháh Begum and Mirzá Khán departed for Badakhshán.^203e My brother Muhammad Sháh, who was in the service of the Begum, accompanied them. As they approached Badakhshán, Mirza Khán was sent forward to announce to Zobir Rághi the arrival of the Begum, and to explain her intentions.

No sooner had Mirzá Khán left them, than the army of Abá Bakr marching from Káshghar came upon them. All the men and the Begum, and all who were of the party, were seized and carried off [to Káshghar]. An account of Abá Bakr^203f will shortly follow.

Mirzá Khán [hearing of this event] hastened to Zobir Rághi. At first Zobir treated him with respect and honour, but afterwards paid so little attention to him, that he allowed only one or two servants to wait on him. When things had gone on a short time in this way, Yusuf Ali Kukildásh Divána, one of Mirzá Khán's old retainers, conspired with eighteen other persons, and one night fell on Zobir, slew him, and set Mirzá Khán upon the throne. From that date, 913, till the end of his life, Mirzá Khán reigned over Badakhshán.

After the conquest of Kandahár, Bábar remained in Kábul. Those Moghuls of Khusrau Sháh's army who had stayed behind, to the number of about 3000, now raised Abdur Razzák^204a to the throne, and declared against the Emperor, who had only 500 men left with him. However, with these 500 men, he met them in a pitched battle. This was one of the Emperor's greatest battles. After much giving and taking of blows and countless hand-to-hand fights, the Emperor broke and routed the foe. In that action he personally, and alone, engaged five different champions of the enemy: Ali Sayyid Gur, Ali Sinár, and three others, and with brave strokes and sword cuts, put them all to flight.

In this same battle, Abdur Razzák Mirzá fell into the Emperor's hands, but was treated with generosity and set at liberty.

After these events, the affairs of the Emperor began to march favourably in Kábul, where he remained until the year 916 [1510], when Sháhi Beg Khán was slain, as will be mentioned below.

EXPEDITION OF SHÁHI BEG KHÁN INTO KHWÁRIZM. HIS CONQUEST OF THAT COUNTRY. HIS RETURN TO MÁVARÁ-UN-NAHR, AND HIS MARCH INTO KHORÁSÁN.

WHEN Sháhi Beg Khán had disposed of the Moghuls, Sultán Said Khán fled to Moghulistán, and my father to Khorásán. Some [of the Moghuls] were put to death and others imprisoned. Sháh Begum was sent into Khorásán, while the rest of the Moghuls, [Sháhi Beg] carried with him into Khwárizm. He besieged [Khwárizm] for eleven months. Chin Sufi was then acting as governor for Mirzá Sultán Husain. During all that time no one came in answer to his appeal for help; and he fought some marvellous battles, which even now are celebrated among the Uzbeg. At length, in consequence of the dearth of provisions, most of his men died of hunger, and resistance became no longer possible; then Sháhi Beg Khán took the citadel, put Chin Sufi to death, and returned to Samarkand.

As, before the conquest of Khwárizm, he had laid siege to Balkh for six months, and had left that enterprise only half completed (as has been related above), he now went and conquered Balkh, and then returned to Samarkand, where he passed the winter. In the spring he set out against Khorásán. Mirzá Sultán Husain had died the year before, and his sons, in their indolence and indifference, could not come to any mutual agreement. When the news arrived of Sháhi Beg Khán's approach, everything was thrown into dire confusion and disorder. Every one had some suggestion to offer, but no conclusion could be arrived at, [and while they were still engaged in these arguments] news came that Sháhi Beg Khán had reached Herat. Mirzá Zunnun led out an army [to oppose him], but [saw] that it was too late to dam the torrent with earth, or to smother the blazing fire with dust, and he was himself slain at the first onset of the Uzbeg, who forthwith entered and plundered Herat. The Mirzás all fled in different directions, and the greater part of the army did not even know how Herat had been taken. Thus easily fell that important city with its vast population.

Mir Muhammad Sálih, one of the Amirs of Sultán Abu Said, whose name is to be found in the “Lives of the Poets” [tazkira] discovered the date of this event, namely, 912, in the words Fath-i-Khorásán —“Conquest of Khorásán.”

THE REASON WHY MY FATHER, MUHAMMAD HUSAIN KURKÁN, SUR-RENDERED HIMSELF TO SHÁHI BEG KHÁN. MARTYRDOM OF MY NOBLE UNCLE, SULTÁN MAHMUD KHÁN, AND OF MY FATHER.

MY father and Mirzá Khán left Kábul and went to Kandahár, whence the former proceeded, with the intention of making the Holy Pilgrimage, while Mirzá Khán remained at Kandahár. [My father] had resolved to go to Sistán, and taking the road by Neh and Bandán, to reach Kirmán; since if he travelled by way of Khorásán, he would be hindered by the importunities of the Mirzás.^205a On nearing Faráh he was met by a body of fugitives, in the most pitiable state imaginable, who told him that Sháhi Beg Khán had seized Khorásán in the manner above related.^205b

When they reached Faráh they found that the roads on every side were unsafe, and there was nothing left for my father but to remain where he was. Thus he stayed three months in Faráh. On Sháhi Beg Khán hearing of his whereabouts, he sent him a most courteous invitation [which he accepted], and, accompanied by the magnates of Faráh, he went to visit Sháhi Beg Khán, who was then encamped at Uláng Káhdastan,^206a in great magnificence; but the limits of this Epitome prevent me from giving full particulars. No one would ever have imagined that change and destruction were coming over his affairs within a few years; it is wonderful how, in a short space of time, all went to ruin, in a way that will be briefly described.

In short, he received my father with every mark of attention and honour, and showered down innumerable presents upon him.

After this [Sháhi Beg Khán] went against Kandahár, where Sultán Násir Mirzá^206b was [ruling], as has been mentioned above. He laid siege to the town for forty days, and then, having made peace, he returned, carrying away much booty. During the same year there were battles between the sons of Mirzá Sultán Husain and Sháhi Beg Khán's Sultáns at Mashhad, Nishápur, Astarábád, and Turshiz. In all these encounters the Uzbeg were victorious, and the Chaghatái defeated. A great number of the Chaghatái were slain, and those who escaped became so scattered that they were never again united.

At this time, Ubaid Ullah Khan,^206c who was Sultán (and many victories were in his name), was going to Bokhárá, which was his hereditary seat of government. He begged my father to allow me to accompany him. The reason for this was that Habiba Sultán Khánish (who has been mentioned, in the detailed list of my father's children, given above) had been married by Sháhi Beg Khán to Ubaid Ullah Sultán, after [my father's] flight from Shahr-i-Sabz. So, with my father's permission, I was taken to my sister in Bokhárá.

In the winter of the same year, Sháhi Beg Khán went to attack the Kazák in Mávará-un-Nahr, that is to say, the Dasht-i-Kipchák.^207a Sháhi Beg Khán [first] took my father to Bokhárá, but when he went to attack the Kazák, he left him in Samarkand. He returned in the spring, and then set out for Khorásán, entrusting my father to the care of Timur Sultán, his son, to whom he had given Samarkand. So my father spent that spring in Samarkand, while I was living with my sister in Bokhárá.

At this time news came that Sultán Mahmud Khán had left Moghulistán and was advancing on Andiján, with complaints and demands. Sháhi Beg Khán sent to beg my father to come into Khorásán. My father accepted the invitation and went. He felt his end was drawing near, and on the tablet of his fate he recognised the hue of martyrdom. His hope of safety being more slender than a spider's web, he devoted all his attention and energy to providing for my safety, so that should his precious soul be drowned in the whirlpool of martyrdom, I at least, on the shores of safety, should be protected from risks and dangers.

On his first visit to Herat, my father had sought out a pious and talented man to be my teacher, whose name was Háfiz Miram. He was, indeed, a pious and ascetic man [fakir], possessed of numerous talents. He could recite the Korán [with special attention to the] modulations of the voice, and wrote the Naskh Táalik hand and others beautifully. My father was much pleased with him; and during [his stay in Herat] this man was his constant companion, whether in the time of contentment and pleasure, or in the days of trial and sorrow. He instructed me in the Korán and in calligraphy.

When the time came for starting for Khorásán, my father showed me, in private, much kindness, and did his utmost to console and comfort me, saying: “Your uncle Sultán Mahmud Khán has arrived [from Moghulistán] in spite of my having warned him both by word and in writing. I said to him, ‘After the conquests of Amir Timur, and the devastation [takhrib] of Moghulistán, your forefathers, though dispersed, remained in that country, and were awaiting their opportunity. Contenting themselves with scanty clothing and simple food, they took care of their people and their army. Thus passed 150 years, until the sun of your noble nature rose in Moghulistán, which is an eastern clime and the quarter where rise the lights of the Khákáns. At the middle season of your youth, in the manner of your noble ancestors, you restored the fallen Moghulistán to its former glory, and together with Yunus Khán, you seized that opportunity, which had been long sought by your forefathers, and brought under your control those states which they so earnestly coveted. Thus you spent nineteen years in complete success. It is now clearer than the day, that the power of your victorious forces cannot be compared with the numbers of Sháhi Beg Khán's army. Hence it is your obvious duty to remain in Moghulistán, both for your own personal safety and for the welfare of your people. For though you may there be exposed to many hardships, that is better than extinction. It is, moreover, quite evident to me that should you ever fall into the hands of Sháhi Beg Khán, he will subject you to the most painful of tortures, and will deem your death his own life: on no account whatever will he spare you.’

“Thus did I use all the arguments in my power to dissuade the Khán, but as often as my remonstrances reached him, certain base advisers, in their short-sighted ignorance, represented to him that ‘Muhammad Husain Mirzá does not wish you to go, because lately Sháhi Beg Khán has shown him great favour, and he knows that your going would put an end to this.’ To absurd representations of this kind they would add: ‘It is our firm conviction that if [Sháhi Beg Khán has treated Muhammad Husain Mirzá well, in return for his services, he will treat a hundred, nay, a thousand, times better, you who have done so much more for him’].^208a After the expression of all these impossible and absurd ideas, the following answer was sent back: ‘Oh! Dásh’ (that is, oh! Friend, for these two had become ‘friends’ according to the Moghul custom, in their youth, and called each other by this name up to the end of their days): ‘how strange it is that you should be leading such a happy life in Khorásán and Samarkand, in spite of your knowledge of the pitiable state of affairs in Moghulistán! How can you allow me to be exposed to so much suffering?’ But taking my words and advice as mixed with evil intentions, he failed to recognise their truth, and came. This instance is not the same as the former one.^208b Certainly Sháhi Beg Khán will fill the cup of the Khán's hopes with the fatal wine of martyrdom, and whatever dregs remain he will cause me to drink. I now commit you to the care of God. Though your company would be dearer to me than my own life, I fear Sháhi Beg Khán would not allow it, and I prefer the idea of your life being prolonged, even though it involve the bitterness of separation; you must therefore bear my absence patiently. Patience is bitter, but it has a sweet fruit. Remember that when the father dies, the children are his heirs. You also have become an heir. If the bird of my life escape from the net of Sháhi Beg Khán's intentions against me, we shall have the joy of meeting again.

“Now as your teacher, Háfiz Miram, is a devout man, and is not on friendly terms with any of our people, if anything happens to me, he will, with the advice of my partisans, be able to look to your interests. Moreover, his family is also in Khorásán. It is just a year since he left them to follow me; therefore he is going along with me.

“I entrust you to the care of Mauláná Muhammad. Be careful to pay attention to all he may say to you, for he is my vicar [khalifa].^209a His father was my instructor and guide. From the day of his birth up to the present time, he has been my confidant and companion. I trust that he will always be your support in times of trouble, and that he will protect you through thick and thin.”

Having thus threaded many pearls of good counsel upon the string of wisdom, and hung them on the attentive ear of my understanding, my father departed to go and wait on Sháhi Beg Khán, who was at that time besieging Kalát.^209b To all outward appearance he received my father with friendship, and then allowed him to proceed to Herat. When he reached Herat, a person was sent after him [to put him to death]. Sultán Mahmud Khán and his children were killed on the river of Khojand.^209c My father was buried in the mausoleum of Amir Sayyid Husaini, while Sultán Mahmud was placed in the mausoleum of Shaikh Muslih-ud-Din, Khojandi.

This happened in the year 914. For the Khán, the chronogram Lab-i-daryá-i-Khojand [the banks of the river of Khojand] was discovered. [Here follow some blessings upon the martyrs …]

AFTER Sháhi Beg Khán had put my father to death, he despatched an emissary to Bokhárá with instructions to throw me into the river, and thus send me to join those who had been drowned in the river of Khojand. Although the order was an obnoxious one to Ubaid Sultán, who received it (for he was married to my sister), still it was impossible for him to refuse.

But how excellent a thing it is that the Almighty has power to check the violent and, if He so wills it, to restrain the hand of the cruel: so that, without His consent, the tyrant cannot touch a single hair of any man's head. And this is confirmed by the events of this disturbed time.^210a For, in his glory, vanity and magnificence, see how many royal families Sháhi Beg Khán destroyed, and the number of princely houses he annihilated! For example, Sultán Husaini^210b and his followers, to the number of nearly 200,000 persons; Sultán Mahmud and the Mirzás with nearly 50,000 men—these all suffered at the hands of Sháhi Beg Khán. Again the royal houses of Samarkand and of Mirzá Sultán Ahmad: to what extremities were they not all driven by this tyrant? In a short space of time, he scattered to the winds of annihilation many governors and officials, so that the dust of their existence formed towers on the plains of non-existence, which reached up to the heavens, and from the mists of their sighs a frightful whirlwind arose in the deserts.

This king, who could commit such atrocities and practise such violence, was resolved on my death, at a time when I had only just passed the half of my childhood, and did not know my right hand from my left, nor good from evil; nor had I the ability to use my strength—nay, I had not enough intelligence to execute my own wishes. I had become an orphan, without father or mother, my paternal uncles were scattered and my maternal uncles slain. I had not [even] an elder brother who could share in my grief; no friend or relation to comfort me.

That year, 914,^210c proved one of disaster for the Sultáns of the day in general, and of massacre for the Moghul Khákáns in particular. When God willed that all my uncles, aunts, and cousins should be carried off in different directions and murdered, I was the weakest and youngest of the family. The strangest part of it all is that they were, everyone, at a great distance [from Sháhi Beg Khán], as has been mentioned above, but being helpless, nay, having no alternative, they came and threw themselves into calamity and were murdered; while I escaped, though in the town of Bokhárá, in the middle of the ocean of Sháhi Beg Khán's dominions. Since the decree of the will of the Almighty had not been issued for my destruction, but for my preservation, Sháhi Beg Khán, with all his boasting and power, was not able to touch one hair of the head of that helpless little child whom he wished to kill. (Thanks be to God, the Lord of Heaven and Earth, the Possessor of Might, Majesty, and Power.)

The details [of my escape] are briefly as follows: at the above date, my father went to Khorásán and was put to death by Sháhi Beg Khán, who also sent an emissary to Bokhárá to kill me. And although this was an act that would have been distasteful to Ubaid Ullah Khán, it was quite impossible for him to disobey the orders of Sháhi Beg Khán. He handed me over to the emissary, with instructions to throw me into the river Amu, that I might join those others who had been drowned in the ocean of divine mercy. He was engaged in investigating some of the property which my father had left [in Bokhárá], alleging that the Mirzá had said to him: “Bring my property along with my son.” This occasioned a delay of a few days. During this interval Mauláná Muhammad, who was my master and my father's Khalifa, went to see Hazrat Mauláná Muhammad Kázi, who asked him: “When are you starting for Khorásán?” Maulána Muhammad replied: “We have decided to depart in a few days.” Hazrat Mauláná then said: “Come back in a little while, I have something I wish to say to you.” After a time, when the assembly of faithful men had dispersed, Mauláná Muhammad came in again, and Hazrat Mauláná asked him: “How could I consent to Muhammad Husain Mirzá going to Khorásán, and now to the Mirzá's son going there too?” Mauláná Muhammad replied: “Verily, we are taking him, fully trusting in God's protection.” Then, said Hazrat Mauláná: “The Holy Prophet, when his life was threatened by the infidels of Mekka, did not put his trust in standing still and being captured, but took to flight. Therefore, what you should now do is, trusting in God, to take the Mirzá and flee; and if danger or cause of fear presents itself, I am your security. You ought certainly to set out without delay.”

Mauláná Muhammad used to say: “I never had any such thought in my mind, but those words of Hazrat Mauláná had a wonderful effect on me, and the determination to go and seize you and carry you away, took so strong a hold of me that as soon as I had left him, I turned my whole attention to our flight.”

Having reached this point in my narrative, I think fit to give some details of the life of Hazrat Mauláná, who has been mentioned above, in connection with my illness.

HIS name was Muhammad bin Burhán-ud-Din. His father was one of the intimate friends of Kázi Imád-ud-Din Maskin, Samar-kandi, and for this reason Hazrat Mauláná was known as Mauláná Muhammad Kázi. After he had acquired a certain proficiency in the sciences, he devoted himself to the study of theology—walking in the way of God—and to this end he repaired to Khorásán. On leaving Samarkand, he went to pay his respects to that much beloved and respected example of piety, Khwája Násir-ud-Din Ubaidullah, who lived there. He asked Hazrat Mauláná where he was going. The latter replied that he was going to Khorásán. Again he asked: “Are you going for the sake of study, or for some other object?” A certain student, who was in the company of Hazrat Mauláná, said: “His greatest desire is to become a darvish.” His Holiness [the Khwája] telling them to wait a little, went into his garden, and after a prolonged absence returned, bringing two letters for Hazrat Mauláná: one was a letter of recommendation to Khwája Kilán, the son of Mauláná Sád-ud-Din Káshghari; the other contained an account of the rules and practices of devotees, which he had written, and which he now gave to Hazrat Mauláná.

[Here follows an epitome or summary of the contents of the “Tract,” which contained commendations to the study of divine truths, through following Muhammad, and warnings against associating with dancing and singing (or howling) darvishes, and against listening to heretical doctrines.]

In the Salsalat ul Arifin, one of Hazrat Mauláná's works, it is written: “It was most strange that in spite of the Khwája's admonition, my desire to visit Khorásán was in no way lessened; I at length obtained Khwája Nasir-ud-Din's sanction to depart, and set out for Khorásán. But as, on the road, incidents occurred which prevented me from proceeding further, I returned and entered the Khwája's service.” The writer remained some time with him, and managed his private kitchen; and so great was his devotion that he used himself to come, on foot, and lay the meals before Hazrat Ishán. He, by degrees, won his entire confidence, and Hazrat Ishán used to address Hazrat Mauláná in the presence of all his most distinguished guests.^213a

In all matters, the most perfect intimacy and trust existed between them—so much so, that Mauláná Muhammad became an object of jealousy to the other companions of Hazrat Ishán and his children. And as this gave rise to much unpleasantness, Hazrat Mauláná set out for Khorásán in company with Mauláná Muhammad Amin, who was also a disciple of Hazrat Ishán…

And there they spent six months in the enjoyment of the society of Mauláná Abdur Rahman Támi. Hazrat Mauláná then entered the service of Hazrat Ishán in Táshkand, who encouraged him and honoured him with the respectful style of “Ishán.” …

It was the fashion, at that time, for every Sultán to have one of Hazrat Mauláná's disciples for a spiritual guide. Thus Sultán Abu Said Mirzá entertained Mauláná Kásim; Sultán Ahmad Mirzá, Mauláná Khwája Ali; and all the Sultáns observed this practice. Sultán Mahmud Khán was guided by Hazrat Mauláná. I have heard this last say: “I was once praising Sultán Mahmud Khán to Hazrat Ishán, when he remarked that Sultán Mahmud Khán was indeed a very capable young man, but he had one fault, which was a hinderance to his advancement. A pupil, with such an instructor, ought to do all that his instructor told him, and not rely on his own judgment; but, like a hawk, he should pounce down upon whatever prey he is sent against, whether or no he has strength sufficient, and should not hesitate and doubt, as the Khán did. It was this that prevented him rising to that elevation which his people had expected of him.”

In a word, after the death of Hazrat Ishán, Hazrat Mauláná went to Táshkand, where he was welcomed with honour and devotion, and where he remained until the destruction of Táshkand, when he migrated to Bokhárá. At that time Mahmud Sultán, brother of Sháhi Beg Khán, and father of Ubaid Ullah Khán, was ruler of Bokhárá, as representative of Sháhi Beg Khán. He cultivated the society of Hazrat Mauláná and was his disciple for one winter, which greatly pleased Hazrat Mauláná, who for this reason stayed on in Bokhárá from that date to the year 916, when my father went to Khorásán^213c and was martyred. It has been mentioned in my own story, and will be related again, how kind Hazrat Mauláná was to me.

When the Kizilbásh^214a overran the land (as will be described), Hazrat Mauláná left Bokhárá and went to Andiján and Akhsi, where he resolved to stay.^214b There, many people became Nakhsh-bandi under his guidance, thus attaining high rank, and are, to this day, a blessing in the land, where they propagate the doctrines of their sect. An account of these men will be given below, in connection with the biographical notice of Hazrat Makhdumi. Wherever in this history Hazrat Mauláná, absolutely, is mentioned, Hazrat Mauláná Muhammad Kázi is indicated. Further details of his life will be given in their proper place.

BEFORE entering upon the life of Hazrat Mauláná, I had reached that point in my narrative where Hazrat Mauláná Muhammad, who was my tutor [ustád], had resolved that he would escape with me. Though he had previously had no intentions of this sort, the idea gained complete ascendency over his Christ-like mind. With this intent he came to me, in private, and asked me: “Do you propose to go to Khorásán now?” I replied: “Yes, I must go, for I have been sent for.” He then said: “It is quite certain that Sháhi Beg Khán will put you in chains, but what he will do with you after that I cannot say.” Then he added: “I have something to tell you, but will only do so on the condition that you will reveal the secret to no one.” I then took a very solemn oath and swore I would not repeat what he told me, after which he said: “They have murdered the Mirzá in Khorásán, and have now sent for you. They have given orders that you are to be sunk to the bottom of the River Amu, and thus to be despatched to the next world. If you know of any one who will carry you off, then fly at once.

For death attacks alike both old and young,
And fills with fear the minds of all it strikes:”

Fear and dismay overcame me, and I began to weep: I longed to flee, in the hope of saving my life.

The Mauláná said: “You must keep this secret well hid; be on the watch: for the moment I give the sign you must hasten away.”

He had a friend who lived outside the town of Bokhárá, and arranged that I should pass a few days in perfect concealment in this man's house. He informed certain of my father's servants of this plan, and arranged that on the night of our flight, these servants should take some saddle horses and start in a certain direction, in order to make the spies think that we had fled on horseback, and [thus cause them] to scour distant roads, searching only the outside of the town while not suspecting the inside.

Accordingly, the same night that we took refuge in the house of this friend, the servants took the horses and carried out the orders which had been given them. All turned out as we had expected. The spies imagined that we had escaped on horseback, and no one made search for us in the town. We remained fourteen days in the house of that excellent man. After this lapse of time, we joined a party of donkey-drivers and accompanied them to the town of Hisár Shádmán. In the bázár of that town one of my father's servants recognised Mauláná Muhammad. Fearing lest he might trace us out, we at once fled from Hisár. On the road I fell from my donkey, and dislocated my left elbow. We dared not re-enter the town, or the bázár, and in the villages we could not find a bone-setter; thus I endured the greatest agony for two months.

At Pushang, one of the villages in Khatlán, we spent some days in the house of one of its holy men, who was known as Khwája Habib Ullah. He was a benevolent person, and after diligent search found a bone-setter, whom he brought. The bone-setter broke the joint again, and set it. I had not been able to use my arm for two months, and from the intensity of the pain, had, during all that time, never slept at night. That night, however, I fell asleep.

One day, while we were there, a soldier came in and, placing his quiver in a corner, sat down. Having scrutinised the company, he came quickly forward, and said with great respect and courtesy: “Does not Khwája Mauláná Muhammad know me again? I was Mirzá Muhammad Husain's cook at such and such a time; in those days I rendered you good service.” And as he gave such clear proofs of recognition, it was vain to disclaim his acquaintance. Moreover, Mauláná Muhammad seemed much pleased, gave expression to his joy, and began to enumerate the good qualities [of that man]. That day and night they spent in friendly intercourse. When day broke and he was about to depart, he stood in the doorway of the house, in a respectful attitude, and said: “Oh, Khwája Mauláná Muhammad, blessings be upon your zeal and fidelity. It was a noble and a suitable act of yours to take Mirzá Husain's son and escape with him. If I had had any power or means, I would have given my assistance; but I have not. However, if I can, in any way, further your plans, I will hasten to bear my part.” So saying he departed.

A little while after, there came an intimate friend of Khwája Habib Ullah, who whispered something in the Khwája's ear; whereat the Khwája's colour fled from his face. He immediately took the man apart, and said: “Now repeat what Shaikham^216a said.” The man replied: “Shaikham told me to go and tell Khwája Habib Ullah that ‘this man’ has fled with the son of Mirzá Muhammad Husain; the child is the cousin of Mirza Khán and of Bábar Pádisháh. Perhaps the Khwája is keeping him in his house, and in this case he will incur the enmity of Hamza Sultán.^217a Behold, I am going to inform the Naváb Matlab Sultán [of the matter], so that the house and home of Khwája Habib Ullah may be swept away with the broom of plunder, its dust mount to the skies, and its vapour be diffused over the earth.” With these words he went away.

This Matlab Sultán was the son of Hamza Sultán, a one-eyed wretch, whose inward vision was rendered blinder than his outward sight by the darkness of tyranny. All the oppressed of those countries united, at his court, in a common protest against his tyranny. The leaves of the trees of these people's lives were constantly trembling from the violence of his blasts.

Khwája Habib Ullah remained for a while buried in thought, then raising his head, he said: “No one has delivered you over to me as hostages. I will not, from fear of being held responsible^217b for a charge I have not taken upon myself, deliver this little child into the hands of death. To do so, would be conformable neither with the teachings of Islám nor the dictates of humanity. Rise up and flee whithersoever you may be safe. And whatever chastisement may fall upon me, on your account, I will consider as treasure laid up for me in the next world.” We then, having returned him thanks, bade him farewell, and set out at once.

At this time Sháh Razi-ud-Din, who was a Chirágh Kush, appeared in Badakhshán. His followers used to put to death every one they met, deeming it a means of salvation, and reward in the next world. He had caused all the roads to be stopped, so that it was impossible for us to journey into Badakhshán. Sháh Razi-ud-Din was one of the cursed Muláhida of Kohistán, whose story is to be found in all histories. Most of the people of Badakhshán are adherents of that sect. They hold the world to be without beginning or end [kadim], and do not believe in resurrection or a future state. They say that during the lifetime of the Prophet, it was incumbent on all to abide by the statutes of the Holy Law; but at the present time, the sole duty of man is to speak fitting words and to be faithful to their meaning. All other ordinances are futile. Sexual intercourse [vati] with their own kindred is lawful, and the enjoyment of it is, in no respect, dependent on marriage; thus, should one have a passion for somebody with whom its indulgence is practicable, it is lawful to gratify it—be it with daughter or son or mother.

It is also lawful for them to take one another's lives or property. [In fact] the sect of Muláhida is the worst form of heathenism in the world.^218a At the time of the conquests of Sháhi Beg Khán, the people of Badakhshán (as has been mentioned) were acting independently; still, they had never neglected to pay tribute to Razi-ud-Din, who was a Pir-záda, or to his ancestors. At that time Sháh Razi-ud-Din was brought from Sistán into Badakhshán. But before his arrival Mirzá Khán, as already stated, had come, and having killed Zobir, set himself up as king. As the people of Rágh, as well as most of the Hazára of Badakhshán, attached themselves to him, his supremacy was absolute. All the inhabitants of Badakhshán, both far and near, openly and privately, adhered to him.

When we reached Dili Bázár, one of the chief villages of Khat-lán, we heard of these events. Whereupon we debated together as to what should be done; some of the people of that place counselled us, saying: “Nik Pai Sháh, although he professes obedience to Hamza Sultán, is nevertheless a well-wisher of Mirzá Khán, and has also pretty constant intercourse with Sháh Razi-ud-Din. If you throw yourselves upon him for support and protection, he will be able to convey you to Mirzá Khán.” The Mauláná, having left me in the house of some person, went to see Nik Pai Khán, to whom he explained that he was the preceptor of Mirzá Khán,^219a and that, having escaped the tyranny of the Uzbeg, he was desirous of repairing to the foot of the throne of Mirzá Khán. “If,” he continued, “you will help me in this matter, your reward shall be great;^219b I shall, moreover, be able to represent your loyalty in the most favourable light to Mirzá Khán.” Nik Pai Sháh received the Mauláná with great respect and honour, and instructed five of his most trusted men to escort him across the river to Rusták, which, though in ruins, was at least a place of security from the violence of the Chirágh Kush. At about the hour of midday prayer, those five men came and conveyed us across the river Amu, whence we advanced towards Rusták. When the blazing torch of the sun descended into the oven of the West, and the sparks of the stars were scattered over the smoke-streaked vault of heaven, fire fell upon the souls of those five men, and they began to brawl and wrangle. Three other poor men, who carried a little merchandise, were of our party, being bound for Kala-i-Zafar, where they hoped to realise a small profit. These [five men] said to us: “You must pay duty [báj]”; and what was demanded was accordingly handed over. Again they said: “To each of us, separate payment is due”; and this also they took. Finally they said: “[You have no need of money],” and they threatened to plunder us. How could five poor artless men withstand five stalwart ruffians [ghalcha].^220a Besides, they gave us no time, but began to bind us all, as a first step towards putting us to death. When they laid hold of Mauláná Muhammad, he called out in an authoritative and severe tone of voice: “You dare not do us any injury. Do you know who this is?” (pointing to me). “This is the brother of Mirzá Khan, who, flying from Bokhárá, is on his way to visit his brother. A great number of his servants are following after him, as fast as they can, while others have stayed behind with Nik Pai Sháh. If we do not reach Kala-i-Zafar in safety, you can imagine what will be done to you.” When Mauláná Muhammad had said this, the ruffians [ghalcha] became mild [sust], and replied in their own dialect: “Take back your possessions, oh! Khwája.” So saying they restored what we had given them, and turned to depart. In spite of our insistance, they would not help us any further, but returned. We, however, had no intention of returning; but putting our whole trust in God's protection, continued our road until dawn. During the day we crept into hiding, and on the following night again set out. At daybreak we reached Rusták, where we were safe from the hostility of the accursed Muláhida.

On the following day we arrived at Kala-i-Zafar. During the time of the Uzbeg domination, of which I have spoken, when the people of Badakhshán raised their heads in every corner, and the Uzbeg made several unsuccessful invasions, one of the chiefs of Badakhshán was Mubárak Sháh. He had chosen out a strong place for himself, but before he was able to complete the fortifications, the Uzbeg came upon him. He gave them battle in that place, and defeated them, and for that reason he called the fort Kala-i-Zafar [the Fort of Victory], which name is the more appropriate seeing that Mubárak Sháh was of a tribe called “Muzaffari.” It is the capital of Badakhshán.^220b This Mubárak Sháh was put to death by Zobir Rághi, who had defeated him, but who was, in turn, killed by Mirzá Khán, as already mentioned. [Mirzá Khán then ruled Badakhshán] and resided in Kala-i-Zafar.

Mirzá Abá Bakr had taken many of the upper [báládast]^221a Hazára of Badakhshán, and the lower [páyán] side, which is flat country, he had joined on to the Uzbeg states, which lie on the borders of this territory. But the best of the country that was left between these [two territories] was under the sway of Sháh Razi-ud-Din, the Chirágh Kush, and his Muláhida. Mirzá Khán encountered many difficulties and hardships in Badakhshán. When I came to him, he gave me a warm and affectionate welcome. Eighteen days before my arrival, Sultán Said Khán had come to visit him, [had stayed a short time] and then left [for Kábul], as will be presently related. I remained one year in the service of Mirzá Khán. The rest of my adventures will be told after the account of the Khán's journey to Kábul.

IT has already been stated that Sultán Said Khán had passed some time in the service of Sháhi Beg Khán, and was consequently well acquainted with his disposition and that of his nobles. He felt assured that Sháhi Beg would not spare the Moghul Sultáns, merely in recognition of having once been released by them, after having fallen into their hands.^222a So, whenever he had heard praises bestowed on Sháhi Beg Khán, he had protested. Ultimately, things came to such a pass in Moghulistán, that he had no resource left but to surrender himself to the Uzbeg.

Under these conditions, he entered Andiján. The government of the province of Farghána was, at that time, in the hands of Jáni Beg Sultán. He had given Andiján to Khwája Ali Bahádur, who was one of Sháhi Beg Khán's most trusty men, and whom he now promoted to the rank of Atálik^222b [guardian]. He was partially mad, but, in military and state affairs, exceedingly capable.

The Khán reached Sulát-Kand,^222c which is one of the dependencies of Andiján, but, before he told his name and descent, asked the inhabitants what had happened to Sultán Mahmud Khán, and whither Sultán Khalil Sultán had been sent. They answered him: “Sultán Mahmud Khán and all the Khákáns of the Moghuls, who have come here, have been sent to the City of Non-Existence, by the Gate of Martyrdom.”

At this announcement, the thread of the Khán's hope, which was slender as a spider's web, snapped in two. But he did not regret that he had come, for he had done so as a last resource, with his eyes open and knowing the risk he was running. Khwája Ali Bahádur sent people to seize whatever they had brought with them, and imprisoned the Khán in an apartment which was above the gateway of the citadel of Andiján.

On the morrow, when the glorious sword-bearer of the East drew his sword from the sheath of the horizon, and caused its dazzling brightness to illumine the earth, the resplendent world was utter darkness in the eyes of the Khán, who was sent, with his hands tied to his neck, to Jáni Beg Khán in Akhsi. But Khwája Ali Bahádur was depressed and sorrowful; he felt deeply for the Khán, but as he did not dare to disobey Sháhi Beg Khán's orders, he could not so much as think of releasing the Khán. Before sending him off he had despatched a special messenger [to announce the Khán's approach]. At about that time, Jáni Beg Sultán had fallen from his horse onto his head, and his brain had become severely deranged, so that now, most of his actions and words were inconsistent with a healthy understanding, and the reins of memory fell from the hands of his intellect. On the day that this news was brought to him, it chanced that his brain was influenced by the spirit of Islám and the Holy Law (the Most High God had ordained this, for the purpose of delivering the Khán), and he said: “I am not an executioner that I should endeavour to take any man's blood.” He then ordered a letter [nishán] to be written to Khwája Ali Bahádur, saying: “The Moghul Sultán who has come [to you] has not been delivered into our custody. It would not be acting in conformity with the statutes of the Holy Law were I to take his life. [It behoves me] to open to him the meadows of mercy and safety, that he may wander whither he will.” [Such was the purport of his letter.]

When the Khán related these incidents to me, as he frequently did, he used to say: “I had, for a long time, felt quite assured that the Uzbeg would spare none of the Moghul Sultáns, and had become so convinced of this, at the time of my first visit to Andiján, that when I arrived there [on this occasion], and^223a certain pious men had written to me and sent prayers [for me to repeat], I said in reply to them: ‘One of the conditions [of prayer] is that nothing impossible should be prayed for; now my deliverance must be reckoned among impossibilities, and therefore these prayers for my safety would be ill-advised.’ To which they answered: ‘Though these prayers may not have the power to bring about deliverance from the imminent peril in which you stand, yet on account of them, God will give you a greater reward in the next world.’ On this assurance I repeated the prayers which they had sent me. I began also to turn over in my mind my chances of safety, and how my escape might be achieved, but not one of the ideas that occurred to me seemed feasible. If, for example, Sháhi Beg Khán were now to die, how could his dying in Khorásán, at the time when they were going to put me to death in Akhsi, in any way further my escape? If, again, Jáni Beg Sultán were to die, his death would not throw the affairs of the Uzbeg into such confusion that, during the disturbance, my escape could be effected. In short, I could not conceive any possibility or probability of deliverance. As we drew near to Akhsi, we saw a horseman riding towards us; I was persuaded that he was coming to put me to death, and wondered how he would do it. But when he approached, we found that it was Mauláná Haidar Kharsuz, one of the notables of Andiján. Throwing himself from the saddle, he came and kissed my stirrup, with joy and delight that knew no bounds, and said: ‘Good news for you! Jáni Beg Sultán has issued an order for your release. The joyful mandate is now being brought by Dust Ali Chulák.’ It then occurred to me that he was saying this just to set my fears at rest, so I said: ‘May God reward you with good things! As for me, I have withdrawn my mind from life, and therefore do not stand in need of such comfort.” But Mauláná Haidar reiterated his assertions, and was confirming them with the strongest asseverations and the most solemn oaths, when Dust Ali Chulák arrived, and commanded my guard [muvakkal] to return, to escort me back to Khwája Ali Bahádur and perform all the details of the mandate concerning me. Thus, from within one farsákh of Akhsi I was conveyed back to Andiján.

“When the mandate was delivered to Khwája Ali Bahádur, he [having read it] handed it to me. On perusing it, I found it to contain exactly what Mauláná Haidar had told me. Khwája Ali Bahádur then said: ‘Though he should not abide by this decision but, changing his humour, should issue a second mandate reversing this one, still this is sufficient pretext for me; you must be cheerful, and enjoy now the soul-stirring wine-cups of the spirit of youth. Be at your ease.’ However much I insisted that it was but base deceit and a mean device to pollute the cup of martyrdom with [earthly] wine, [my protestations] were of no avail.^224a Moreover, in conformity with the rules of good breeding [ilm-i-maásh], I was obliged to give in to his mode of thinking [and with an unwilling heart I accepted his invitation]. As the wine-cup was passed round, the rose-coloured liquor diffused itself over our cheeks, which had become yellow as saffron, from the jaundice-tainted order of the livid-souled Sháhi Beg Khán, but now opened out like the red rose or the new-blown tulip. All that day was spent in wine drinking, [and when night came on] the feast adorning torches made the banquet hall bright as the day. [The festivities had scarce recommenced] when one of Jáni Beg Sultán's chamberlains named Alláh Birdi came in and placed a sorrow-bearing mandate in the hands of Khwája Ali Bahádur, who passed it on to me, saying: ‘Read thy letter.’ In it was written: ‘The question of the release of Sultán Said Khán has been reconsidered, and found to be contrary to the orders of the Khán. He must be sent to join those who have gone before him and who will never return: or, otherwise, according to the old Moghul custom, he must be sent to the capital, where he should, by means of the gallows, be sent to his lasting home.’ On reading this ill-favoured mandate, the rosy tints of joy were exchanged for the saffron hues of apprehension. Khwájá Ali Bahádur grasped the situation, and asked: “What is the cause of your dejection? Read out the mandate.’ So I read it aloud. Then Khwája Ali Bahádur became enraged, and said: ‘His brain is disordered with mischief: whatever emanates from such a mind, if it be originally a good thought, becomes a sin, and if it be a premeditated sin—then God preserves us! When a man has escaped from the edge of the sword, or from the foot of the gallows, he is as difficult to lay hold of as quicksilver—he disappears like camphor unmixed with pepper. Where can I find him?’ The chamberlain, kissing the ground of respect, said: ‘It is not reasonable that you, Bahádur, should deviate from the straight-road of loyalty and adopt that of falsehood, which is the worst of qualities. You say that the Sultán, like quicksilver, is not to be caught; but he is now at your side, and of this I am a witness.’ [At these words] Khwája Ali Bahádur blazed up, like a fire, with rage, and cried: ‘Have all the worthy services and deeds of valour I have performed in the employment of Jáni Beg Sultán, resulted in so little, that a Chaghatái like yourself (whose skirt of service is still so defiled with the pollution of hostility that no water of forgiveness could cleanse it) should come and give me the lie direct, and point out to me the straight road of loyalty to this family? I will report your answer in full to the Sultán.’ He then ordered a hole to be cut out of a beam, and that the beam should be placed upon the man's neck [and he be made to sit before the gate].”

After the Khán [Sultán Said] had been invested with the robe of sovereignty of Andiján, this same Alláh Bardi was taken before him, and he was thus reminded of the man's former base conduct. But he said: “Khwája Ali Bahádur avenged me that same night, and the rancour I bore him was washed from my heart. Let him now be restored to his former post of chamberlain;” and he gave him the middle rank of chamberlain, which was a high office for him.^225a

“That night was spent in companionship, until day dawned; on the morrow, attended by a few men, we set out for Karátigin. After travelling for one day, the men sent to accompany us, having lost the right road, turned back. When Khwájá Ali Bahádur was informed of this, he vented his wrath upon these men and punished them severely.” He kept the Khán with him some days, while he selected for him some distinguished and trusty persons. The first among them was Mauláná Khaliki, a talented, good, and studious man; he wrote the Naskh-Táalik perfectly, and composed good poetry; he was also a proficient musician. Another of them was Khwája Sálih, who was the leading merchant in the province of Andiján, and was known by every one he met on the road, while people often appealed to him for advice in their affairs. A third was Mauláná Yusuf Káshghari, who was an accountant [muhtasib], much esteemed in Andiján for his judgment. Another was Gadái Piri, a professional courtier [nadim] and a skilled musician. Another was Mir Ahmad, one of the Andiján Turks; he had travelled much and knew all the best routes. Another was Jalál, a very serviceable man. Having given him these few men as an escort, he started the Khán off a second time.

Khwája Sálih and Mauláná Yusuf were dressed like merchants, Mauláná Khaliki, Darvish Piri and the Khán were in the guise of students, and looked very like kalandars. Mir Ahmad and Jalál passed as servants of the merchants. Thus attired, they set forth and reached Kala-i-Zafar in perfect peace and safety. Here they found Mirzá Khán, who received and entertained them as well as his straitened circumstances would allow. They remained there eighteen days. Now, since Mirzá Khán was a very feeble man, some of his retainers, on account of his weakness, thought fit to offer the Khán the government of Kala-i-Zafar (which was not worth half a loaf of bread). But the Khán declined, saying: “Mirzá Khán, who is my cousin, has been exposed to a thousand hardships, by crooked fortune. It would be contrary to all rules of good feeling and justice to oppose him, or to deprive him of this [possession].” The Khán accordingly hastened to depart, and went on to Kábul. Eighteen days after his departure, I arrived at Mirzá Khán's [capital], as has been mentioned above.

On reaching Kábul, the Khán was welcomed with the utmost respect and honour by the Emperor. The Khán used to say [when telling his story]: “Those days that I spent in Kábul were the freest from care or sorrow of any I have ever experienced, or ever shall experience. I spent two years and a half at the court of this excellent Prince, in a continual succession of enjoyments, and in the most complete abandonment to pleasure and absence of preoccupation. I was on friendly terms with all, and made welcome by all. I never suffered even a headache, unless from the effects of wine; and never felt distressed or sad, except on account of the ringlets of some beloved one.”

In short, the Khán remained in Kábul as the companion and confidant of the Emperor. There existed between these two great princes perfect accord and love and trust. The Khán's visit lasted from Shabán 914 to Ramazán 916,^226a at which latter date Sháhi Beg Khán fell into the hands of Sháh Ismail, and was killed by him, as will be related.

I HAVE mentioned that I arrived at Kala-i-Zafar just eighteen days after the Khán's departure for Kábul. Mirzá Khán was living there in exceedingly straitened circumstances, being without provisions and surrounded by the scheming natives of Badakhshán. The Tangi Bálá,^227a in which are situated the strongest places of the Hazára, had been annexed to Káshghar, as will be mentioned below. The flat country of Badakhshán, the most fertile and prosperous part of that state, was under the control of the Uzbeg; while the rest [of the land] from fear of the Uzbeg had [been abandoned and had] become a waste. What yet remained over from the panther of the mountains of enmity, on the one hand, and from the crocodile of the river of tyranny, on the other, (that is to say, the Uzbeg and the Káshghari) had passed to Sháh Razi-ud-Din, the Chirágh Kush, who, having been brought from Sistán to Badakhshán, had been appointed king [of this portion]. He had introduced the religion of the Muláhidas, and outdid the oppression of his two tyrannical predecessors. Mirzá Khán, as a Musulmán, was much harassed [by these infidels] and had scarcely the necessaries of life. That winter was passed in suffering.

In the early spring, a dissension arose among the supporters of Sháh Razi-ud-Din, which ended in their cutting off his head and laying it at the feet of Mirzá Khán. By this defeat of the Mulá-hida [Mirzá Khán] gained a little power. Thus passed the spring; and at the end of autumn [tirmáh] a compulsory order came from the Emperor of the following purport: “The son of Muhammad Husain Mirzá has been with you; your country is always exposed to the forays of the Uzbeg, and my mind can never be at rest as long as he remains there; you must send him to me.”

When Mirzá Khán gave me leave to go to Kábul, he tried his best to procure a coloured garment for me, but was unable to find one [and was obliged to excuse himself]. On that day a most curious incident occurred. I have already mentioned that I fell from my horse and dislocated my elbow at Langar Mir Amád (which is a dependency of Hisár), and that it had been broken again and set at Pushang. Although the pain had subsided, I was not able to bend and straighten my arm. I could not bend it enough to touch my face with my hand, nor straighten it sufficiently to draw a bow. During the spring I spent with Mirzá Khán, a man of Badakhshán, having stolen a two year old horse from the Uzbeg, had brought it as a present [pishkash] to Mirzá Khán who, in turn, gave it to me. One day the Mirzá was taking a ride for pleasure, and I accompanied him on that particular horse. While we were riding along, a thorn ran into [the khárish-gáh ^228a of] my horse. He gave two or three bounds into the air, and as I had not strength enough to keep hold of the bridle, it fell from my hand, and I was thrown on to the ground upon my injured arm. As I struck the ground, I heard a sound in my bad elbow. The shock was so violent that I fainted. After a time I came to, and found that Mirzá Khán was holding my head upon his knees. He asked me how I felt. When I had quite recovered my senses, having bound up my arm, they conveyed me to Kala-i-Zafar. There they sent for the bone-setters [kamángar].^228b On examination, they found that my arm had gone back to its proper place, so that after a short time I recovered the entire use of it, and no injury was traceable. This was certainly a very strange occurrence.

In a word, at the beginning of the month Rajab I left Kala-i-Zafar and the service of Mirzá Khán, and turned towards Kábul, accompanied by a party of sixteen. We only had two horses with us, and so limited was our baggage that I had nothing to lie on at night. Mauláná Muhammad, who was a sort of father to the party, had nothing but one meagre shawl, such as is worn by the poorest men in Badakhshán. What the condition of the others was, may be surmised.

When we reached Kábul, we were received by Shirun^228c Taghái, who was maternal uncle to the Emperor and myself, and one of the pillars of state. With a hundred marks of respect, he invited me to his own house, where I was entertained with distinction and kindness. Later, the Emperor sent a messenger to say that, after three days, the happy hour would arrive when he would send for me. After that, the moon of my ascendency and [the star of my good-luck] emerged from their eclipse, and my misfortune changed to prosperity. An order came that I should have the honour of waiting [upon the Emperor]. When I came into his presence, the joy-diffusing glance of the Emperor fell upon me, and from the excess of his love and the intensity of his kindness, strung pearls and set rubies began to rain down upon me from his benign, jewel-scattering eye. He extended towards me the hand of favour and bade me welcome. Having first knelt down, I [raised myself and] advanced towards him. He then clasped me to the bosom of affection—drew me to the breast of fatherly love, and held me thus for a while. When he let me go, he would no longer allow me to observe the formalities of respect, but made me sit down at his side. While we were thus seated, he said to me with great benevolence: “Your father and brother and all your relations have been made to drink the wine of martyrdom; but thank God, you have come back to me again in safety. Do not grieve too much at their loss. For I will take their place, and whatever favour of affection you could have expected from them, that, and more, will I show you.” With such promises and tenderness did he comfort me, so that the bitterness of orphanage and the poison of banishment were driven from my mind. He then asked me: “Who was it that carried you off in flight?” I replied: “My master, Mauláná Muhammad Sadr.” He then sent for the Mauláná. When he arrived [the Emperor] honoured him with many kind speeches, and kept asking him the particulars of his story, while the Mauláná several times recounted the details of our escape. [The Emperor] praised him highly and rejoiced his soul with promises of favour. [When the Mauláná had taken his leave] the Emperor said to me: “You have not yet paid your respects to Sultán Said Khán,” and thereupon he ordered one of his private officers to take me to the Sultán. I accompanied this officer, and at once waiting on the Khán, benefited likewise by his joy-scattering glances. I then returned to the presence of the Emperor. After sitting with him for a short time, I took my leave, amid assurances of royal favour.

When I came out, a man advanced to meet me with great respect, and said: “I am the steward [kalávuz] of the abode which the Emperor has appointed for you.” So saying, he led the way to an elegant mansion; its rooms were spread with many-coloured carpets and beautiful thrones [masnad]. Everything in the way of furniture, food, clothing, servants, and slaves, had been so fully prepared as to leave nothing to be desired in the whole building. It may be imagined how I enjoyed so sudden a transition to comfort, ease, and abundance from a state of poverty, misfortune, suffering, and hardship, which had rendered the soul weary of its confinement within the cage of the body. How can I ever show sufficient thankfulness? May God reward him with good things!

Thus I passed a long time in the service of the Emperor, in perfect happiness and freedom from care; and he was for ever, either by promises of kindness or by threats of severity, encouraging me to study. If he ever noticed any little virtue or new acquisition, he would praise it in the highest terms, commend it to everybody, and invite their approbation. All that time, the Emperor showed me such affection and kindness as a fond father shows his son and heir. It was a hard day for me when I lost my father, but the bitterness of my desolation became scarcely perceptible, owing to the blessed favours of the Emperor.

From this time, to the year 918 [1512 A.D.] I remained in his service. Whenever he rode out, I had the honour of riding at his side, and when he received friends, I was sure to be among the invited. In fact, he never let me be separated from him. When I was studying, for example, directly my lesson was over he would send someone to fetch me. And in this fatherly manner did he continue to treat me till the end of my stay [tá akhar-i-hál].

AS Sháhi Beg Khán had filled the cups of the Kháns and my father with the wine of martyrdom, and had made them drink it to the last dreg, so also was his own cup of life full, and his fortune departed; for has it not been said: “The wine which thou hast made others drink, that must thou also drink of in the end”? The goblet of his prosperity was upset, and that which he had caused others to taste, he was himself, in turn, obliged to drink to the dregs. To be brief, as soon as he had set his mind at rest concerning the Kháns and my father, Sháhi Beg Khán carried devastation in all directions. In the year 915 [1509 A.D.] he proceeded against the Kazáks. At that time, although Baranduk was Khán, yet all the business of government was conducted by Kásim Khán. In spite of his great power, Sháhi Beg Khán had not force enough to withstand Kásim Beg. At that period, the numbers of his army exceeded 20,000. In winter time every one stayed in some place^230a where there was fodder for the cattle. In the middle of the winter, Sháhi Beg Khán was engaged in plundering on every side, but he soon returned, his object being not to remain too far from his own country.^230b About the time above mentioned, he made his last expedition, but the strength of his horses and soldiers was quite exhausted; he himself remained in the district of Kuk Káshána, and having detached a force, whose horses had some strength left, sent them forward. This party fell in with a few men, whom they despoiled and made prisoners.

One day they had halted for the sake of feeding their horses, when news came that Kásim Khán was close at hand. This news alarmed them. Buyun Pir Hasan, one of Kásim Khán's Amirs, having heard of the invasion of the Shaibán, advanced against them with his own followers; he spread the report that Kásim Khán was approaching and had let himself be seen in the distance. Sháhi Beg Khán's men, being fully persuaded that Kásim Khán was really upon them, abandoned all they had seized—nay, even all they had brought with them—and retreated, in the utmost disorder and confusion, to Sháhi Beg Khán, bearing the news of Kásim Khán's approach. Sháhi Beg Khán at once ordered them to sound the drum of departure, without paying attention to anything [but getting away]. Those who liked stayed, those who wished to go went. Broken and in disorder, they reached Samarkand at the end of the winter. [Sháhi Beg Khán] himself went on to Khorásán, where he spent the spring.

In the beginning of autumn [tirmáh] he led an army against the Hazára; but search as he might, he could not find a trace of them in the Hazára mountains. For they had crept into hiding, so that it was impossible to find them. He returned by way of the passes, and along the bottom of a ravine where flows the River Halman [Helmand]. There were but few roads by which it was possible to descend the ravine, and these were extremely difficult. It was well nigh impossible for an army of that magnitude to pass by one or two paths, or to carry away [sufficient] water [or to water the horses and beasts of burden]. They marched as they could for several days, but from want of water they lost their courage. Numbers of the cattle perished; and this army, too, having received the decree of defeat, returned to Khorásán. As it was winter, and as two armies in succession had fared thus badly, he gave his soldiers a general leave of absence [allowing every man] to return to his own home and country, whether he came from the confines of Turkistán or the farthest extremity of Irák and Kirmán. At this juncture, news came that Sháh Ismail was advancing on Khorásán. Now, as the army was dispersed, Sháhi Beg Khán did not think it advisable to remain in Herat. He sent messengers to the surrounding districts, to summon the Sultáns and Amirs to assemble in Merv, whilst he himself proceeded thither; and when he reached Merv he found Sháh Ismail was already close upon him, as shall be presently related.

IT is written at the beginning of this Part, and is mentioned in the list of the kings who were reigning in the different countries in the year 905, that Sháh Ismail had gained complete dominion over Irák. His dynasty had driven the Perfect Law [Shariat] out of that country, and had brought about general massacres. However, there is no room in this Epitome for an exposition of his misdeeds. When the frontiers of Sháhi Beg Khán's states came to border on Irák, the Uzbeg used to make forays into those parts of Irák which immediately adjoined Khorásán. On this account Sháh Ismail sent an envoy to Sháhi Beg Khán, bearing suitable gifts, together with a letter, which ran as follows: “Hitherto the dust of dissension has never settled upon the skirts of our thoughts to such an extent as to raise a cloud of enmity. Let the path of fatherly conduct be observed on your side, and on this side the bonds of filial relationship shall be established. [Verses]

Plant the tree of friendship: for its fruit will be the desire of your heart;
Root up the sapling of enmity, which produces countless griefs.”

When the bearer of this missive arrived^232a at the court of the Khán, the [following] answer was returned: “It is fitting that every man follow the profession of his father. If he follows his mother he is going backwards. For Uzun Hasan withdrew himself from the circle of kings, on the day that he gave his daughter in marriage to your father, as did also Sultán Yakub, son of Hasan, in giving him his sister. You had a right to make claims on your mother's side, so long as there was no son in the world like me— Sultán, son of a Sultán. As the proverb says: ‘Let the son do the father's work, and the daughter the mother's.’ [Verses]

Kings know the secrets of the business of the realm.
Oh! Háfiz, thou beggar, sitting in the corner, do not complain.”

Having exhausted his eloquence, Sháhi Beg Khán sent back by the envoy a staff [ásá] and a beggar's bowl [kachkul], adding: “In case you have forgotten your father's trade, I remind you of it. [Verses.]

Oh! my friend, if you value your life give ear to good counsel;
Ye happy youths, listen to the wisdom of the sage old man.

If you place your foot on the step of sovereignty think of your own danger. [Verses.]

He may clasp the bride of sovereignty firmly to his breast,
Who dares to kiss her amid the clashing of keen swords.”

So saying, he dismissed the envoy from Irák, while he himself led an army against the Hazára. The envoy, on his return, delivered the reply to Sháh Ismail, who, on hearing it, said: “If it is incumbent on every son to follow his father's trade, we, being sons of Adam, ought all of us to practise prophecy! If sovereignty had been confined to the hereditary descendants of kings, there would have been more Pishdádi, and never any Kaiani. How would Chingis himself have become king? and where did you come from?

Then, in return for his presents, he sent Sháhi Beg Khán a spinning-wheel and spindle, saying: “You wrote in your letter to me, ‘Whosoever would clasp the bride of sovereignty close to his breast …’ I, too, say the same thing, and behold, I have bound on the girdle to offer you fight, and have placed the foot of contest in the stirrup of fierce warfare. If you come out to meet me face to face in battle, our claims shall be thereby decided. And if you will not fight, go and sit in a corner and busy yourself with the little present I am sending you. [Verses.]

We have had many experiences in this monastery of Recompenses.
Whosoever quarrelled with the Family of the Prophet was defeated.”

Sháhi Beg Khán had disbanded his army, and was in Merv when this letter arrived. He despatched expresses to every quarter to collect his forces, but before even the troops of the neighbouring districts could assemble, Sháh Ismail arrived and pitched his camp in the vicinity of Merv. During three days there were continual skirmishes, and the army of Sháhi Beg Khán began to muster from all directions. Sháh Ismail then came out from the broken ground [where he was camped], and when the pickets of the Uzbeg army saw this movement they reported it. The Uzbeg [at once] imagined that the enemy had repented having come, and were about to turn back. At the hour of afternoon prayers, on the ruz-i-shak of Ramazán in the year 916 [1510 A.D.], they marched out, with a force of about 20,000 men. Some of his advisers, such as Amir Kambar and Amir Rái, represented that: “To-day we had better suspend hostilities [and not pursue Sháh Ismail]; for Ubaid Ullah Sultán and Timur Sultán are encamped with 20,000 men at a distance of one farsákh; [to-morrow they will come and join their force to ours]. Moreover, it has been positively ascertained that the enemy, in thus returning, either means to retreat or [to draw us on to] battle. If they wish to fight, we had better [wait until more of our troops have assembled from the surrounding districts] and engage them with as large a force as possible. And if they are really in flight, there is no necessity for the chief to pursue them in person. Ubaid Ullah Sultán, Timur Sultán, and a few other Amirs can follow them, while His Majesty the Khán can travel quietly and leisurely, stage by stage, right into Irák. It is evident that in the case of his retreating from this place, our men can drive him forward and rout him, so that he will not have strength to establish himself even in Irák.” To this the Khán replied: “[You have said well] nevertheless, to make war on Sháh Ismail is a holy war, and one of importance: moreover there will be much plunder, and it would be a sacrifice of gain in this world and advantage in the next, were I to share [this undertaking] with the Sultáns. We must be bold.” So saying, he [mounted his horse and that same hour] set out [in pursuit of Sháh Ismail]. When they had crossed the broken ground and entered the open plain, they saw that the enemy had halted, and they calculated them to be 40,000 strong. Before the Uzbeg army had time to get properly into fighting order, the Turkomán contingent charged them. When Sháhi Beg Khán's men saw themselves outflanked by the enemy, they lost their steadiness and turned in flight. But the leaders of the army stood their ground, till at length Sháhi Beg Khán and all his officers were killed. No history has recorded, nor has any one read or heard of [another] battle in which all the commanders of the army were slain.

When the fugitives reached the fort of Merv, every man of them who was able to do so, took his family and fled, while such as were unable, repeated the verse [from the Korán] about separation from wife and children, and then departed.

Now, most of the Moghuls had been sent to Khorásán by Sháhi Beg Khán, so that they might be further from the Kháns and from Moghulistán. When the Uzbeg reached the River Amu, they fell into the hands of these Moghuls, who did not fail to plunder them. 20,000 Moghuls then separated themselves and went to Kunduz. Ubaid Ullah Sultán and Timur Sultán were still encamped near Merv, when news of the defeat reached them. They immediately repaired to the fort of Merv, when they seized the haram of Sháhi Beg Khán, and of several of the Sultans and nobles, together with anything that caught their eye, and went off again the same night. Of those who stayed behind, all the men were compelled, by the flashing swords of the Turkománs, to taste the wine of martyrdom, while the women were carried off into bondage. There followed, also, a general massacre of the people of Merv.

Meanwhile Sháh Ismail returned to Herat, where he commanded all the chief men [akábir] of the town to assemble in the Mulkán mosque, and read the Khutba; also, while the Khutba was being read, to pour out curses upon the Companions of the Prophet and the faithful Aisha. When the chief men were met together in the mosque of Mulkán, they carried out that unseemly order, and then remained silent, until Háfiz-ud-Din, who was the preacher [khatib], was conducted to the pulpit. Háfiz ascended the pulpit and gave out praise and thanksgiving to the Bestower of all good gifts, and praises to the Lord of all living things [the Prophet]. When the turn came for the blessed names of the Companions of the Prophet, the hand of honour and piety seized the collar of [faithfulness to] Islám and gave him the courage of Háfiz, so that he, preferring the good things of the next world, and eternal felicity, to this transitory life, said: “For many years I have read the Khutba in accordance with the Sunna. To-day, the sun of my life has reached the west of old age. If it were the dawn of my days, I might not have hesitated to perform this act of infidelity to preserve my young life; but now that my days are just drawing to a close, what benefit could I derive from such an act of blasphemy [kufr]?” So saying, he proceeded to read out the names of the Companions, with the customary honour and respect. The accursed Kizilbásh (may God curse them) rose up to a man, and pulled the hoaryheaded Háfiz down from the pulpit, by his collar, trampled him under their feet, and then cut him in pieces; while the great men of the city all fled.

On the following day, the Shaikh-ul-Islám (who has been mentioned among the great men of Khorásán) was sent for by Sháh Ismail. When the Shaikh came into the king's presence, the king turned to him and said: “Oh, Shaikh! you are a learned man. It is a pity you should commit an error. Come and curse the Companions and adopt the Shia faith.” The Shaikh then opened his lips and said: “Oh, my son! what do you know of religion, that you should point out the way thereof to me? Bring before me those cowardly men who are nothing more or less than infidels and worthy of death, and who have brought you to this sad plight. If their words convince me, I will renounce my own faith and enter their sect. But if the superiority of my religion is proved against them, then you will renounce your corrupt belief and adopt my pure faith.”

Then Sháh Ismail turned to his Ulama and asked them what they had to say to this. They replied: “With people such as these words are of no avail.”

That hundred times a wretch twice turned towards the Shaikh ul-Islám and said: “Come, Shaikh, renounce your sect.” But the Shaikh retorted insultingly: “Oh, cursed infidel, may your mouth he filled with the earth of malediction, and your head struck with the stones of execration! You, who are deceived by false and wicked guides, and cannot distinguish between the path of life and the road to perdition: what do you know of religion, or of sects? How do you know Satan from God the all-merciful? By what science, learning, intelligence, or perception can you distinguish the true from the false, that you should lecture me on the True Faith?” On hearing these scornful remarks, the king laid hold of his bow and let fly an arrow at the Shaikh, which struck him. The Shaikh pulled the arrow out, rubbed some of the blood that issued from the wound, over his blessed face and white beard, saying: “Thanks be to God, that after a life of eighty years spent in the confirmation of the True Faith, and the refutation of false doctrine, I have seen my white beard stained with the blood of martyrdom.” That black-faced heretic [bad-kish] then drew another arrow from his quiver [kish], and shot it at the Shaikh. He then gave orders for him to be carried out and hanged on a tree, and for the tree to be afterwards cut down from the root. The Shaikh fell with the tree, and they carried him away and burned him in the Malik bazaar. Try as they might, they could not make the blessed breast of the Shaikh to burn, and he lay for some time in the bazaar exposed to the kicks of infidels…^236a In short, the persecution was continued as long as Sháh Ismail remained in Khorásán.

A summarised account of the rest of his reign will follow.

IN the early part of Ramazán of the year 916 [1510 A.D.] a person came to Kábul with a letter from Mirzá Khán to the Emperor. The passes were blocked with snow, for it was the season of the beginning of Capricorn. The letter contained the news that Sháh Ismail, having come from Irák, had engaged and defeated Sháhi Beg Khán at Merv. It had not been fully ascertained whether Sháhi Beg Khán had been killed or not.^237a All the Uzbeg had recrossed the river Amu, and fled to Kunduz, where Amir Urus Durman then was.^237b

Nearly 20,000 Moghuls, having separated from the Uzbeg, had also gone to Kunduz from Merv. “I, myself,” he added, “have gone over to Kunduz. If you will quickly turn the reins of your power in the direction of Kunduz, I will attach myself to you, and I have the firmest hope that you may soon recover your hereditary kingdom.”

[As soon as the Emperor had read the contents of this letter] he set out with all possible speed [although it was] in the depth of winter. [He took the route] of Ab Dara^237c [since by that route] there were no high passes to cross. He kept the Feast of Ramazán^237d in the Bamián district, and at the beginning of Shawál reached Kunduz, where he was received by Mirzá Khán, and by the Moghuls who had been with the Uzbeg. Having reposed for a few days in Kunduz, after the fatigues of the journey, it was proposed that they should proceed against Hisár, where Hamza Sultán and Mahdi Sultán, two of the most eminent of the Uzbeg Sultáns, were ruling. The winter was nearly over when they passed the River Amu, at the ford of Tukuz Tárám. When Hamza Sultán heard of their approach, he rode out of Hisár and repaired to Vakhsh, while the Emperor advanced to the plain [dasht] of Kulak,^238a which is one of the most noted localities in Khatlán. There he learnt that Hamza Sultán was in Vakhsh. That same night he set out by the higher road to surprise Sultán Hamza, and at sunrise reached his camp. Nobody was there. They searched on every side, and found a few peasants, who gave them the following information concerning Hamza Sultán: “Yesterday, at the hour of midday prayers, news came that the Emperor had pitched his camp in the plain of Kulak, whereupon [Hamza Sultán] immediately set out for that place, by the lower road.” The Emperor at once started in pursuit, along the road which Hamza Sultán had taken, and at noontide prayers again found himself at his quarters of the night before. Hamza Sultán, for his part, had reached the camp at dawn, and found a precisely similar state of affairs; he, too, set out in the track of our army, and at midday prayer time re-entered his own camp.

The Emperor and his men believed that Hamza Sultán would not be able to resist them; while Hamza Sultán, on the other hand, thought that [the Emperor] had only brought a few men with him from Kábul, and that the Moghul army, having only just arrived, would not yet have made sufficient preparations to be able to fight. As both sides entertained such ideas as these, they became afraid of one another.^238b That same night the Emperor pressed on to Kunduz, while Hamza Sultán fled to Hisár. After a few days, they each received the news of the other's flight, and both of them repeated, in thankfulness for their escape, the verse “Praise be to God who has averted from us an affliction.” The Emperor, on reaching Kunduz, found that an ambassador had arrived from Sháh Ismail, bearing tenders of friendship. In the meantime Khánzáda Begum, the Emperor's sister, had come from Khorásán [having been sent by Sháh Ismail]. It has been already related how the Emperor, at the siege of Samarkand, had given his sister, Khánzáda Begum, to Sháhi Beg Khán, as a ransom for his own life, and had thus escaped. The Begum was taken into Sháhi Beg Khán's haram, and by him, had a son named Khurram Sháh Sultán. After this, the Khán [Sháhi Beg] began to fear that she might, in concert with her brother, plot against his life; he therefore divorced her, and gave her to Sayyid Hádi, one of the most eminent Sayyids of the Sayyidátái^239a —a man who was held in the greatest respect and honour by himself and the Sultáns and all the Uzbeg. Sayyid Hádi had been killed in the battle of Merv, and the Begum and her son had fallen into the hands of the Turkománs. When Sháh Ismail discovered that she was Babar Pádisháh's sister, he treated her with great attention, and sent her back, with an ambassador bearing costly gifts, to the Emperor. When Khánzáda Begum arrived [the Emperor was overjoyed] and despatched Mirzá Khán to Sháh Ismail laden with presents, and charged with protestations of submission, good faith, and entreaties for support and assistance. Sháh Ismail received him well, and having acceded to his requests, speedily gave him leave to return.

During this interval, a messenger came from my uncle to announce that he had entirely cleared Farghána of the Uzbeg, and that he had brought that country under his complete control, so that the extermination of the Uzbeg and the conquest of Mavará-un-Nahr would now become an easy matter. This brings me to the next chapter.

AT the time of the devastation of Táshkand, my father's brother, Sayyid Muhammad Mirzá (who is everywhere spoken of in this book as “my uncle” in an absolute sense), was in Táshkand, in the service of Sultán Mahmud Khán. When the Kháns went to attack Andiján, they first of all easily subdued Kásán, and gave it to my uncle; they next proceeded to Akhsi, whither Sháhi Beg Khán had also gone, and there a fight ensued, which has been already mentioned. On the news of Sháhi Beg Khán's victory reaching my uncle, he left Kásán [immediately], and though he himself had not been defeated, he joined those who were flying into Moghulistán. When Sultán Mahmud Khán went into Moghul-istán (as has been mentioned) my uncle remained with him until the death of Sultán Ahmad Khán. After this event (as has also been related) the Khán said to my uncle, in disparagement of Aksu and Moghulistán: “The position of towel-washer in Táshkand is better than that of king in Moghulistán.” To which my uncle responded: “Verily, it is better if one is allowed to wash towels.” The Khán was offended at these words, and some of those base men [arázil], whose manner it always is to slander good people behind their backs, strove to aggravate the Khán's anger to such a degree as to cause him to put my uncle to death, and succeeded in preventing any reconciliation ever being effected between the two. However, the Khán said: “He is too near a relation for me to take extreme measures with. As he has no evil intentions against me, let him take himself off; let him go to Mansur Khán at Turfán.” My uncle, therefore, was sent to Turfán, while the Khán himself went to Moghulistán. In journeying towards Turfán, my uncle allied himself, at Aksu, with the survivors of Sultán Ahmad Khán's people, who had remained in that province.

When Sultán Mahmud Khán came to his brother in Aksu, his son, Sultán Muhammad Sultán, and Amir Ahmad Itárji were left in Moghulistán, with some other persons, and on the whole ruled with success. They sent out some men who brought my uncle; and he and Sultán Muhammad Sultán lived on the most friendly and intimate terms, until one night some assassins [fidái], disguised as servants, came and murdered Amir Ahmad. It was never discovered by whose order this deed had been done.

After this, the entire government of Moghulistán, and the authority of Sultán Muhammad Sultán, devolved upon my uncle. But for want of the old army and of able councillors [sahib-i-rái] my uncle's affairs did not prosper. All the old stock and the chief councillors were with my father, and had accompanied him to Hisár, so that nothing could be accomplished with the hundred men or so, that my uncle had with him.

During that time, Sultán Said Khán and Sultán Khalil Sultán, together with the Kirghiz, made repeated forays into Moghul-istán, so that my uncle [at length] fled from that country to Yati-kand, which was the residence of Sultán Mahmud Khán. Those same base men [arázil] again commenced their intrigues, and caused my uncle to be seized and sent to the Uzbeg. Jáni Beg Sultán was at the time in Andiján, and to him my uncle was taken. Jáni Beg Sultán did nothing [to injure him], but rather treated him with his wonted kindness and consideration. With him my uncle remained until the time of Sháh Ismail's conquest, and the Emperor's expedition from Kábul.^241a

In the spring following the winter when Sháhi Beg Khán was killed, all the Sultáns of the Uzbeg assembled in Samarkand; Jáni Beg Sultán also went thither, taking my uncle with him. At that meeting, the Sultáns came to the conclusion that not one of the Moghuls who yet remained in Mávará-un-Nahr, should be left alive. But to this Jáni Beg Sultán would not consent. He dismissed my uncle, and all the Moghuls who were in attendance upon him, [permitting them] to go to Andiján and join their families. My uncle, however, placed no trust in the permanence of Jáni Beg Sultán's decision, and fearing a change in his humour, got away with all speed. Soon after this, Jáni Beg Sultán regretted the action he had taken, and sent some men in pursuit of these Moghuls, with orders to put to death any they should find of them. My uncle had only just escaped in time. On his arrival at Andiján he joined the remainder of the Moghuls and the people of Andiján; with these he raised a revolt, and drove all the Uzbeg out of the country of Farghána. He then sent a messenger to the Emperor, by way of Karátigin,^241b to inform him of these events, and to beg him for help, as has been mentioned above. The news filled the Emperor with joy.

BEFORE this news reached Kunduz, a deputation of the leading men [sahib-i-rái] of the Moghuls, such as Mir Sharim, Mir Mazid, Kul Nazar Mirzá, Amir Ayub, Mir Muhammad, Mir Ibráhim, Yadgár Mirzá, Kará Sultán Ali Mirzá, Mir Ghuri Barlás, Amir Dáim Ali, Mirzá Muhammad, Mir Beg Muhammad, Mir Kambar, Sháh Nazar Mirzá, Kutluk Mirák Mirzá, and others, came and represented to the Khán, at a private interview, that if he desired it they would make away with the Emperor, and set him [Sultán Said Khán] in his place. [For at that time there were 20,000 Moghuls armed and fully prepared, while there were not more than 5,000 Chaghatáis.] But the Khán replied: “During the period of the hurricane of Sháhi Beg Khán's conquests, when the buffetings of the waves of calamity and contention dashed in pieces the ships of the life and prosperity of the Moghul Khákáns, [and they had all been drowned in the ocean of annihilation] I saved myself upon the plank of concealment, and arrived at length at the island of Kábul, which Bábar Pádisháh had contrived to save from the violent shocks of the billows of events, and where he then was. On this island, the Emperor protected me with the utmost benevolence. Now that I have attained the shore of prosperity, how malicious, how ungrateful it would be for me to perform so ignoble an act. [The Holy Law and the dictates of humanity prevent my entertaining any such base thoughts.]” By the hand of Amir Kásim Kuchin, who stood in the place of guardian to the Emperor, he sent the following message: “Praise be to God, the affairs of [your] State are to-day prosperous, and the various peoples are turning their faces towards the palace of that Refuge of the Nations [your Majesty]. The Moghuls, more especially, who are distinguished above all other tribes by their numbers and their strength, and whose Amirs have been the most eminent of Amirs, have always devoted their energies to the advancement of the work of their colleagues [ibná-i-jins]; they now turn to your Majesty. It is no longer expedient for me to remain near you; it is fitting that our ancient union should be changed to separation. If your Majesty send me to some quarter, where it will be possible for the bonds of our old affection to remain fastened, it will contribute to the welfare of both.”

Just at this time news came from Andiján, together with my uncle's petition for help. The Khán was immediately sent off to Andiján, together with every one that thought fit to go. These events will be presently related, if it please God.

AFTER the Khán had been despatched to Andiján, Mirzá Khán arrived with the auxiliary force which had been sent by Sháh Ismail, and thus the power of the Emperor became complete. Then, without delay, his Majesty marched for the country of Hisár; on learning which the Uzbeg, on their part, collected their forces, and under the leadership of Hamza Sultán, Mahdi Sultán, Timur Sultán, and several others of their great Sultáns, set out to oppose the Emperor. Kuchum Khán—who had been set up in the place of Sháhi Beg Khán—Suyunjuk Sultán, Jáni Beg Sultán, Ubaid Ullah Sultán, and all the other [Uzbeg] Sultáns, had assembled and encamped at Karshi, which was originally called Nakhshab. When the Emperor approached the Pul-i-Sangin, Hamza Sultán advanced and occupied it. Both sides remained encamped for nearly one month. Finally it became apparent that the Uzbeg force was numerous, their Sultáns renowned, and that it would be a difficult matter to resist them. The Uzbeg, on their part, came to the conclusion that the Emperor was unable to withstand them, and crossed the river by swimming it below the Pul-i-Sangin. Intelligence of this reached [Bábar] at about afternoon prayer-time, and he immediately broke up his camp and advanced towards Abdara, a locality where there are mountain fastnesses. They continued to march at their best speed all through that night, until the midday prayers of the following day, when they reached a spot which the most experienced leaders considered strongly enough protected to justify a halt. At midnight news came that the Uzbeg were advancing in full force; the commanders announced this simultaneously to the whole army, and up to daybreak every man was busy egtting his arms ready [for action]. About sunrise …^243a our pickets came in and reported that the Uzbeg army was approaching, Thereupon the Emperor mounted his horse and rode to the top of some rising ground. He saw that there was only one road by which the enemy could advance; on the left hand of the elevation [on which he stood] there was another hill, and between the two there was a deep ravine, through which, also, only one road led. When the enemy had deployed on the level plain, they saw that it would be no easy task to ascend [the first mentioned] hill. Timur Sultán and some of the other Sultáns, with about 10,000 men, detached themselves from the rest of the army and began to mount the other hill. Against these the Emperor sent Mirzá Khán with a detachment of brave warriors. At this moment his eye fell upon a body of men, and he asked who they were.^244a When [my father] had left Kábul, there were nearly 3000 of his hereditary retainers, [who had come from Khorásán to Kunduz with the Moghuls]. The chiefs and leaders of these men, the Emperor had taken into his own service, and some of the remainder became attached to myself. It was upon this latter body that the Emperor's eye now fell. They replied: “We are Mirzá Haidar's followers.” The Emperor then [addressing me] said: “You are still too young to take part in such serious affairs as these. Stay by me; [keep by you] Mauláná Muhammad and a few others, and send the rest to the aid of Mirzá Khán.”

When my retainers came up with Mirzá Khán, the Uzbeg made a charge, bearing down [bar dashtand] every one who was in front of Mirzá Khán, till they came close upon the Mirzá himself. At that crisis my retainers arrived on the scene. Their leader was Ataka Fakir, whose name was Ján Ahmad Ataka;^244b hereafter, wherever his name occurs, he will be called by the latter style. He attacked the Uzbeg with the men under him, and put them to flight. Then those who had fled from before Mirzá Khán rallied, and returning to the fight, drove the enemy back. In the midst of this confusion and scuffle, one of my men took one of the enemy prisoner, and led him before the Emperor, who viewed it as a good omen [fál], and said: “Inscribe the name of Mirzá Haidar upon the first trophy [juldu].” Thus, fighting continued on the left of the army till evening. But on the Emperor's side [of the army] there were no engagements, for the road was very narrow, and his position was not easy of approach from cither side. At the hour of afternoon prayers the brave warriors, having left the Emperor's presence, dismounted and encamped. At nightfall [bigáh] the enemy found it impossible to encamp where they were, on account of the absence of water—for none was to be had except at a distance of one farsákh—so, with the object of being near water when night came on, they retreated. The infantry, who had descended [the hill], ran after them, shouting Hai! Hai! [and making a great noise]. That portion of the enemy's army which was opposite to Mirzá Khán, also became anxious to retire, as soon as they saw that Hamza Sultán, who was in their centre [ghul],^244c was in retreat. As long as the two armies remained facing each other, neither side prevailed over the other. But when the enemy turned to retire, those of Mirzá Khán's men who had been facing them, [suddenly] made a charge, and the enemy at once fled. When the centre saw this division put to rout, they too let the reins of self-possession fall from the hand of stability, and likewise turned and fled. It was at the hour of evening prayers that Hamza Sultán, Mahdi Sultán, and Mamák Sultán, who had been captured, were led before the Emperor, who did to them that which Shaibáni had done to the Moghul Khákáns and the Chaghatái Sultáns.^245a

From night to morning and from morning to the next night, did our men pursue the Uzbeg—as far as the frontier [of the State] of Darband-i-Ahanin. The whole of the victorious army now assembled in Hisár, when further help arrived from Sháh Ismail, besides bodies of men from all the surrounding tribes, so that the entire force amounted to 60,000 men. They next marched out of Hisár and proceeded to Karshi. Most of the Uzbeg Sultáns were in Samarkand, while Ubaid Ullah Khán had fortified himself in the castle of Karshi. All [the Emperor's] councillors (and they were those who solved the difficult questions of State) were against laying siege to Karshi. “It would,” they argued, “be far wiser to push on to Bokhárá. For if Ubaid Ullah keeps himself strongly fortified and garrisoned in the castle of Karshi, Bokhárá, which is devoid of troops and full of fools, will fall easily enough into our power. He has nothing to gain by staying in Karshi. [God forbid that, fearing to remain there,] he should abandon the fort and come out.”^245b The Emperor agreed with these opinions, and passing Karshi, went and encamped [at a distance of one stage beyond it]. Scouts came, in rapid succession, to report that Ubaid Ullah had come out of the fort of Karshi and was on the road to Bokhárá. At that same hour the Emperor mounted his horse, and set out with all speed in pursuit of the Uzbeg. He marched night and day until he reached the city. The pursuers drove the Uzbeg out of Bokhárá into the deserts [chul] of Turkistán, plundering as they went.

When the Uzbeg Sultáns who were assembled in Samarkand heard this news, they were suddenly filled with terror and fled, scattered and dismayed, to different parts of Turkistán.

Now when the Emperor arrived in Bokhárá, he sent back the auxiliaries of Sháh Ismail,^246a after praising them for their services and bestowing upon them adequate rewards, while he himself, victorious and covered with glory, proceeded to Samarkand. All the inhabitants of the towns of Mávará-un-Nahr, high and low, nobles and poor men, grandees and artizans, princes and peasants —alike testified their joy at the advent of the Emperor. He was received by the nobles, while the other classes were busy with the decoration of the town. The streets and the bazaars were draped with cloth and gold brocades, and drawings and pictures were hung up on every side. The Emperor entered the city in the middle of the month of Rajab in the year 917, in the midst of such pomp and splendour as no one has ever seen or heard of, before or since. The angels cried aloud: “Enter with peace,” and the people exclaimed: “Praise be to God, Lord of the Universe.” The people of Mávará-un-Nahr, especially the inhabitants of Samarkand, had for years been longing for him to come, that the shadow of his protection might be cast upon them. Although, in the hour of necessity, the Emperor had clothed himself in the garments of the Kizilbásh (which was pure heresy, nay almost unbelief), they sincerely hoped, when he mounted the throne of Samarkand, (the throne of the Law of the Prophet) and placed on his head the diadem of the holy Sunna of Muhammad, that he would remove from it the crown of royalty [Sháhi], whose nature was heresy and whose form was as the tail of an ass.

But the hopes of the people of Samarkand were not realised. For, as yet, the Emperor did not feel able to dispense with the aid and support of Sháh Ismail; nor did he consider himself sufficiently strong to cope single-handed with the Uzbeg; hence he appeared to overlook [mudára] the gross errors of the Kizilbásh. On this account, the people of Mávará-un-Nahr ceased to feel that intense longing for the Emperor which they had entertained while he was absent—their regard for him was at an end. It was thus that the Emperor began [already] to flatter the Turkománs, and associate himself with them.^246b

IT has been recounted above, that the Emperor sent the Khán to Andiján. Along with him he sent, of the Moghul Amirs, Mir Ghuri Barlás, Mir Dáim Ali and his brother Ahmad Ali, Mahmud Kuli, Mirzá Muhammad Begjik and his brother Beg Muhammad; of the tribe of Dughlát, Sháh Nazar, Mirzá Ali, Kutluk Mirák; of the Kunji Amirs, Kul Nazar Mirzá, Khanánki^248a Mirzá, Amir Kambar, son of Haidar Kukildásh Barki, and others. All these departed in the train of the Khán. This party, on their arrival at Andiján, were received by my uncle and the Amirs who had assisted him in the conquest [istikhlás] of Farghána, such as Sultán Ali Mirzá Begjik, Pishka Mirzá Itárji, Tubra Nuyághut and others, who all came and kissed the Khán's stirrup.

After the Khán had come to Andiján, the Uzbeg Sultáns in Samarkand heard of his arrival and of the support he brought the Moghuls of Andiján. [Moreover] as was mentioned above, Hamza Sultán, Mahdi Sultán and Timur Sultán, together with a few other Sultáns, had assembled in Hisár with the intent of opposing the Emperor. Although Ubaid Ullah Sultán knew that Sháh Ismail had given over [the kingdom of] Mávará-un-Nahr to the Emperor, and was not going there in person, he [Ubaid Ullah Sultán] nevertheless, by way of precaution, stayed and occupied Karshi. What happened to him has just been mentioned. Jáni Beg Sultán, Kuchum Khán and Suyunjuk Sultán advanced towards Akhsi and Andiján, in order to check the downfall of Farghána. The Khán had made no preparations in Andiján, when news of their approach arrived, but he then despatched Sultán Ali Mirzá and Tubra Nuyághut Mirzá to Kásán. As the castle of Kásán was not well fortified, these men went and made it strong. It was the first place which the Uzbeg Sultáns attacked, and they reduced it to straits. On learning this news, the Khán sent all the captains of his army to the hills of Kásán, [hoping that] although they were not strong enough to cause the Uzbeg to fear them,^248b yet they might, at least, be able to harass their flanks, and inflict some discomfort and annoyance on them; also that the force in Kásán would thereby be somewhat encouraged.

When this body was sent to [help] the Kásáni, news of the event reached the ears of Abá Bakr Mirzá, who had just come from Káshghar, with the project of seizing the kingdom of Farghána. He had taken possession of all the country above Andiján, such as Uzchand^249a (better known as Uzkand), Mádu^249b and Ush, which comprise the best parts of Farghána; and he now [on hearing that these troops had left Andiján] marched towards that place intending to lay siege to it. [He imagined that the fort of Andiján was a very strong and large one, and that, without the necessary siege appliances, it could not be taken by a party of two or three thousand assailants. Therefore, he first got ready some engines [manjanik], ladders, etc., and then set out for Andiján]. When news of this was brought to the Khán, he and all his people were filled with the utmost alarm.

In the meanwhile the Uzbeg Sultáns had delivered a simultaneous attack on the fort of Kásán, had made breaches on all sides and applied the scaling ladders. Such was the violence of their assault that those within the fort, giving up all hope of being able to defend it, made their escape by the gateway on the side removed from the river. All the Uzbeg army had dismounted and were on foot; they had not thought of the garrison taking flight, and before they had time to get back to their horses and mount, the fugitives had gone a great distance. But those who lagged behind they put to death, together with the people of the fort.^249c

The garrison that had escaped from the fort, fell in with those captains who had been sent to the hills of Kásán to succour them. They now all went straight on, until they arrived at a spot within half a farsákh of Andiján, where they found Abá Bakr Mirzá encamped, with all his siege appliances made ready; for he had determined to deliver an assault from all sides, early the next morning. This same night the army arrived from Kásán. [On the morrow the enemy] advanced with the intention of storming the fort, quite ignorant of the fact that the Khán's troops had arrived. At early dawn, the Khán in person issued from the castle, and drew up his troops in order of battle. Mirzá Abá Bakr, on his side, brought forward his force ready to lay siege to the castle. The opposing armies met at a place on the road called Tutluk; both sides at one drew up, and raising their battle-cries, began the struggle. It would take too long to detail all the particulars of this battle. In short, the standard of the Khán was filled by the winds of victory and success, while the faces of his enemies were covered with the dust of death and destruction. The victorious breezes of the Khán scattered the enemy (who in strength and numbers might be compared to mountains) like chaff before the wind. Thus the army of Mirzá Abá Bakr suffered an overwhelming defeat. All of the enemy who were taken captive by the conquering army, were brought together, and the order was issued for them to be put to death in the park [kuruk] of Andiján. Having, accordingly, made them sit down in lines [the victors] began to kill them. At that moment my uncle [Sayyid Muhammad Mirzá] placing the knee of intercession upon the ground of entreaty, said to the Khán: “Praise and gratitude we owe to God for this victory, for it is the key by which may be opened the whole kingdom of Káshghar. I sincerely hope that Káshghar may fall into our hands with the same ease. But these prisoners whose execution is permitted by, and is in accordance with, the laws of retaliation [mazhab-i-intikám], are all natives of the country [of Káshghar]. If you do not spare them here, it will be as if you had committed a general massacre in that place itself— an act that would, in the end, be a cause of repentance and regret [to yourself]. If his Highness the Khán will forgive these men, who yet remain, and hand them over to me as my share of the spoil, his reward in this world and the next will be enhanced by such an act of mercy.” When the entreaty of my uncle reached the blessed ears of the Khán, he drew the line of forgiveness with the pen of pardon, upon the tablet of the existences of those prisoners. Thus about 3000 persons were rescued from death. Then, raising up their hands in prayer, they filled the air with acclamations of thanksgiving.

This important victory caused the Uzbeg to keep the foot of reflection yet longer within the skirt of hesitation. Following this event, news arrived of the defeat which Hamza Sultán had suffered from Bábar Pádisháh, and of his death, by the Emperor's order, after the battle [which has been mentioned]. A short time afterwards, intelligence was received of the Emperor's march on Samarkand and his reception by its inhabitants; also that the Uzbeg, who were in the city, had taken flight and therefore were unable to surround him. After these occurrences, the Emperor and the Khán reigned absolute in Samarkand and Andiján, respectively. Sháh Ismail returned to Irák. The Emperor gave Kábul and Ghaznin to his younger brother, Sultán Násir Mirzá. The Uzbeg all collected together in Turkistán. The rest of the events that ensued will, please God, be recounted below^250a —how, for example, the Khán and Sultán Khalil Sultán came, one after the other, to Andiján. Sultán Khalil Sultán left one son, who was still at the breast, named Bábá Sultán; and the wife of the Khán, who has been mentioned above, was with child, at the time when the Khán was put to flight by Khwája Ali Bahádur the Uzbeg:^251a she fell into the hands of the Uzbeg, and after a short time was delivered of a son. The Khán arrived in Kábul at the same moment as this news.^251b The Emperor said to the Khán: “As your illustrious name is Said, it would be very suitable to call him [the child] Abdur Rashid,” and the Khán decided upon that name. Both [these Khánzáda], Bábá Sultán, son of Sultán Khalil Sultán, and Abdur Rashid Khán, son of Sultán Said Khán, were taken in charge by Tutuk Khánim, daughter of Sultán Mahmud Khán, who, at the destruction of Táshkand, had been captured by Jáni Beg Sultán, as has been mentioned. When the Khán gained his victory at the battle of Tutluk, and drove the Uzbeg out of the country of Farghána, these two Sultáns were brought to him. I shall speak of them hereafter.

Having reached the story of what passed between the Khán and Mirza Abá Bakr, my history would not be complete without a brief account of the Mirzá's career.

AMIR SAYYID ALI, my great-grandfather [sivum jadd], whose history will, God willing, be told in the First Part, had two sons: Sániz Mirzá, whose mother was of the line of the Jarás Amirs, and Muhammad Haidar Mirzá, my grandfather, whose fortunate and blessed name has devolved upon me. His mother was an aunt [amma] of Sultán Yunus Khán. On the death of the great Amir Sayyid Ali, his elder son, Sániz Mirzá, according to the ancient Moghul custom, succeeded to his father's throne. After seven years, he went to join his father in the next world, leaving two sons, the first Abá Bakr Mirzá and the second Omar Mirzá. The mother of these children was married [afterwards] to Muhammad Haidar Mirzá, in conformity with the Moghul custom of Yangalik.^251c By her, Muhammad Haidar Mirzá also had two sons: the first was my father Muhammad Husain Mirzá, and the second my uncle Sayyid Muhammad Mirzá. After the death of Sániz Mirzá, the government of all the districts of Káshghar devolved upon Muhammad Haidar Mirzá, who for a period of twenty-four years ruled with perfect justice and impartiality. He was a prosperous man, for he had inherited great riches; he always realised his desires, and examined into details; [he experienced no trials or troubles]. But those young men in whose conduct, indications of bravery and intelligence were traceable, he failed to encourage. Most of those experienced and wise men whom Amir Sayyid Ali had gathered round him, during a space of eighty years, had died by the end of Muhammad Haidar Mirzá's life, or if they were not actually dead, they were only decrepit old men [shaikh-i-fáni], whose hands and intellects were no longer capable of guiding or controlling. Their sons [had developed into incapable young men] quite unworthy of their parents. At this time, Mirzá Abá Bakr was about twenty years of age, and was in the service of his guardian [abwi-mááb] uncle [Sayyid Muhammad Mirzá]. He mixed and associated, in the most friendly way, with the princes and youths [of the court], while they, for their part, from equality of age and from fellow service, became very devoted to him. Mirzá Abá Bakr was so open handed and generous, that in a few days he distributed all his property and household possessions, as if they were plunder [batáraj midád]. One day, one of his followers, hearing of some spoil, came in great haste, but found everything gone, and that others had already exhausted the booty. So he came and laid hold of the skirt of Mirzá Abá Bakr, who was standing at the door of his own house, saying: “Although I have come the last [and am disappointed of booty], nevertheless I have found a good pledge [which I will not give up until a ransom is paid].” At these words Mirzá Abá Bakr laughed, and bought himself free from the man with a large sum. In a word, his liberality was so unbounded, that all men flocked to him.

At this period he went to Aksu and Moghulistán, and paid his respects to Dust Muhammad Khán, son of Isán Bughá Khán. Dust Muhammad Khán treated him with honour, and after giving him his own sister in marriage, allowed him to depart. It would take too long to tell this story, and the details would carry us too far afield. In short, he managed, by one means or another, to reduce Yarkand, which is one of the most renowned cities of the province of Káshghar, and is distant four days' journey from the town of that name. To-day Yarkand is the capital of Káshghar.

He had collected 3000 men in his following, who had to oppose 30,000. When his troops reached that district, he openly sounded the drum of ascendency, and rang the bells of independence. Muhammad Haidar Mirzá went out to meet him with an army of 30,000 infantry and cavalry, but he was defeated and fled. He sought refuge with Yunus Khán, who was his cousin. The Khán also undervalued the strength of Mirzá Abá Bakr, and did not take his whole army. He came against him with 30,000 armed men. Muhammad Haidar Mirzá again made ready his forces, as best he could, and set out [with Yunus Khán]. This time, also, [Mirzá Abá Bakr] sallied forth from the gates of the citadel of Yarkand with 3000 chosen men, and defeated and scattered these two armies; and Yunus Khán and Muhammad Haidar Mirzá both retired, crestfallen, to Káshghar. The Khán passed into Moghul-istán, and in the following year returned with the whole of his troops. On this occasion, Mirzá Abá Bakr had made fuller and better preparations. He strengthened his cavalry by embodying with it lightly-armed archers on foot, as he had done on two former occasions, and engaged in such a battle [as the tongue of the reed is incapable of describing]. His men then again became bold, and showed more steadiness [and courage] than ever, so that they easily put to rout that numerous army; and the Khán, with Muhammad Haidar Mirzá, returned once more, defeated, to Kásh-ghar. But this time it became impossible for Muhammad Haidar Mirzá to remain in Káshghar, so taking his household with him, and accompanied by Yunus Khán, he went to Aksu. Meanwhile Mirzá Abá Bakr gained complete domination over the whole of the kingdom of Káshghar. After this, he put out the eyes of his full [yak záda] brother Omar Mirzá, and then banished him from his territories. Omar Mirzá went and lived in Samarkand. [Subsequently] when [Sultán Said] Khán took Yarkand and Káshghar, Omar Mirzá returned to Káshghar, where the Khán paid him unbounded honour and attention, until his death.

The affairs of Muhammad Haida Mirzá and of Yunus Khán will be related in the First Part; the object of this chapter is to give a brief account of Mirzá Abá Bakr.

For forty-eight years he remained firmly established and successful in Káshghar, exercising always absolute authority [istilá]. During this period [he was attacked] on one other^253a occasion, when Sultán Ahmad Khán, son of Sultán Yunus Khán (and known as Álácha Khán), in the course of the year 905, came against Káshghar. But his army likewise was put to rout, as will be mentioned in the First Part.

After the above mentioned victory over Sultán Ahmad Khán, Mirzá Abá Bakr began to extend his conquests on all sides. In the first place, he sent an army into Tibet. It gained glorious victories, subdued most of the districts of Tibet as far as the^253b

frontiers of Kashmir, and carried such desolation [zabun] into those countries, that nobody was left to withstand him. He next sent armies in the direction of Balur, which gained decisive victories and carried off untold booty. After this, he sent a force into Badakhshán, where he subdued most of the Hazára of Badakh-shán. At the time when Sháhi Beg Khán was making the whole world tremble, Mirzá Abá Bakr despatched an army to Andiján and reduced Jáni Beg Khán to great straits. He took Ush, Mádu and Uzkand from the Uzbeg, and reduced the whole of Moghul-istán to such a condition, that not a single Moghul was able to remain in the country,^254a as already mentioned in the history of the Khán. The reason of their [the Moghuls] passing into Andiján has been explained. All the Moghuls who were in Moghulistán fled in different directions before the prowess of his army. Even the Kirghiz, who are the ravening lions^254b of Moghulistán, were no longer able to stay there, but had to join Mansur Khán in Chálish. After the death of Ahmad Khán, and the arrival of Sultán Mahmud Khán in Moghulistán, Mirzá Abá Bakr went to Aksu, which he seized, together with Uch,^254c and carried off all the people from the neighbourhood of the latter place. He also left a garrison in the fort of Uch. My object in relating the prowess and valour of Mirzá Abá Bakr, and the extent of his conquests, is to show what a great warrior Sultán Said Khán was, to have defeated such a man, as he did, at the battle of Tutluk.

ONE of the obligations I have imposed on myself in writing this Epitome [mukhtasar] is, that what I have heard from other people and on good authority, I would briefly rehearse, when it was of importance; but what I have not witnessed myself, I would not dwell on too long, for fear of exaggeration, which I desire to avoid. But what I have witnessed or taken part in, that I have written as personal experience. I have divided the strange life, the evil deeds, and the depraved conduct of Mirzá Abá Bakr into three sections. Firstly, what I have heard from others and from trustworthy reports: this I have stated briefly; secondly, what I have myself seen or heard [directly], but which I could not bring myself to relate; and thirdly, what I have myself witnessed, and have written down in this Epitome. But this is only as one in a thousand incidents—a little out of many—a long story cut short.

Heaven forbid that any reader of these pages should accuse me of exaggeration or of slander. If I had deemed it permissible to depass the limits [of truth] in any way, I should not have said anything about Mirzá Abá Bakr, for he was my uncle. But if I were to omit his history, all other facts connected with him would be obscure and incomprehensible. It is my duty both to shun exaggeration and to avoid omissions. The truth is that for more than forty years Mirzá Abá Bakr ruled supreme. Towards the end of his life, the spirit of tyranny so mastered his nature, that if an offence was committed against him, though the offender might not be liable to any sentence according to the law, yet his evil heart was not satisfied with killing him once, but desired the death of the sinless sinner, a thousand times over.

If any one had, in the slightest degree, opposed him, and he only heard of it ten years after, he was sure to punish, not only the offender, but likewise his children, relations, connections, and dependants. On this account, his subjects grew so submissive to his government, that nobody dared dream of acting contrary to his orders. When he had brought his authority to the point of complete supremacy in all things, he made such a collection of wealth, in treasure, property, mules and cattle, as surpasses all reckoning.

He used to set culprits to work, involving difficulty which was proportionate to the gravity of their offence; he arranged for the separate employment of men and women, but he got some work out of everybody. [For instance] he ordered the old cities [known as] Kázik^255a to be excavated by these [prisoners], and the earth dug from them to be washed. If there were anything big, they would come upon it in digging, while anything small [such as gems] they would find when they washed [the earth]. In this way, innumerable treasures in precious stones, gold and silver, were discovered. I have heard some of his confidants say that a treasure was found in the citadel of Khotan.^256a There were twenty-seven jars [khum] of such a size that a man, with a quiver on, could get inside them, without stooping or bending [and without touching it on any side]. Inside each of these jars was a copper ewer [áftába-i-mis]. One of these ewers fell into my possession. It is a sort of flask [surahi] with a long narrow neck, to which is fixed a rough iron handle. In the centre of the ewer is a copper spout, the nose of which is on a level with [barábar] the mouth of the ewer. The height of it is, at a guess, over one and a half gaz.^256b When filled with water, two persons had great difficulty in lifting it, and they could not carry it from one place to another. Inside each of the jars was placed one of these ewers, filled with gold dust, and outside [the ewers] the space was filled with bálish of silver. In historical works, such as the Jahán-Kushái, the Jami-ut-Tavárikh , and others, a bálish is thus described: “A bálish is 500 mithkál [of silver], made into a long brick with a depression in the middle.”^256c I had [at that time] only heard the name [and had never seen one myself, but had read the description in these books]. These bálish had been placed outside the ewers, but inside the jars. Many of them were brought, just as they were, to the treasury, which fell into the hands of the Khán's army [when Sultán Said Khán conquered Yarkand]. I myself possessed some of them. Thus [subsequently] I saw the bálish [and found them correspond to the description I had seen in books].

One of the most singular things that I heard from those who had worked at the Kázik was this: In every one of the ewers was a letter written in Turki, which read: [“This treasure was prepared for the expenses of the ceremony of circumcision of the son of the Khátun called Khamár.”] But no one could discover who this Khamár Khátun was, nor when she had lived, nor how. How strange that in spite of witnessing such examples, man is not restrained in his lusts, desires, and vain fancies!

After the discovery of this treasure, Mirzá Abá Bakr urged forward the men employed at the Kázik, to work with greater diligence and care than before, and several other treasures were brought to light in the old cities of Káshghar, Yarkand, and Khotan. The mode of operations at the Kázik was as follows: eighteen or twenty prisoners, more or less, were secured together by a chain running from one to the other, at their backs, through a collar fastened round the neck of each. In their hands they carried spades [kaland].^257a They laboured both summer and winter. [During the day they worked] and at night they were put into a prison. If the prisoner's offence was very grave, neither friends, relations, nor strangers were allowed to speak to him or give him anything. So that not even one of the same gang [chain] as himself was able to tell him a story. There was an overseer to every gang, and over every eighteen of the overseers was another person, and there was one man at the head of the whole of the Kázik. If any one of these overseers, whether superior or inferior, in the slightest degree neglected his duty with regard to the convicts, as in flogging, commanding, urging them on, or throwing them into prison, and the like, he was himself consigned to a gang of convicts. Moreover, such was the strictness of discipline, that the overseers never dared to show any leniency. In fact, they could never speak a word, except officially.

Those who were confined for lesser offences, were allowed to see a relation or friend once a week; and in like manner, there were many different gradations for individual cases, from which [favours], however, not the slightest deviation, in the way of enhancement, could be made, without authorisation. [Separate] work was found for the men and the women. The above is only one example, out of many, of Mirzá Abá Bakr's cruelties. Many more instances might be mentioned, but they would disgust the reader, and the mind shrinks from narrating them.

It has been related above, that Sháh Begum, Mihr Nigár Khánim, my brother Muhammad Sháh, and the maternal sister of my father (who was the full sister of Mirzá Abá Bakr), when they were coming from Kábul, on their way to Badakhshán, were captured by the army of Mirzá Abá Bakr. The Mirzá brought them to Káshghar. His sister, Khán Sultán Sultánim, was a very pious woman, and had spent all her life in acts of religious devotion. For a long time he allowed her no food but wine, and when she was brought to the point of death by hunger and thirst, she was made by force to drink some of that [wine], so that she died in torture and suffering, all the same.^258a

He kept my brother, Muhammad Sháh, up till the age of fifteen years among his eunuchs [ghulám-i-akhta]. When [my brother] reached this age [the Mirzá] ordered a roasting-spit to be thrust into his stomach, then to be driven through with a hammer, so as to come out at his back, and impale him against a wall; thus nailed to the wall, he was left [to die in agony]. From these examples, one may judge of his treatment of his nephews and nieces, and of those two noble women, the Begum and the Khánim. On consideration, I have decided to withhold my pen from further details, for I do not wish the honourable mind of the reader of this Epitome to be clouded by the darkness of that black nature; I will therefore not detain him longer on this subject.

In spite of all these [barbarities] Mirzá Abá Bakr affected great piety, and was given over to good works, charity, and almsgiving to such an extent, that he never rested from these matters; while Mullas and doctors of the law were continually in his assemblies. In all his affairs and actions he relied upon a fatwá; he even procured fatwá for the most atrocious of his deeds.^258b If the Ulama granted the fatwá, well and good; if they refused it, he would accuse the Mufti, find him guilty and sentence him to death, but would pretend to show him mercy, saying: “He ought, according to the law, to die, but owing to my regard for him, I will remit the sentence of death, and will give him some work to do instead.” But the work he gave him was far worse than death. Among the fatwá he demanded were the two following.

If Amr attack Zaid with the intention of killing him, Zaid does all he can against Amr in self-defence, and according to the law is justified.^259a

Again, if Khálid^259b be one who excites sedition and carries his evil intentions to another kingdom, in order to stir up rebellion in his own, the governor of his own country does all he can to prevent Khálid from going to another country, lest he may become a source of distress to his own people; and in so doing is justified by the law.

On the strength of these two fatwá, Mirza Abá Bakr put to death 3000 of the men of Jágirák, Uzkand, and Mádu, who had designs upon his life. And he cut off the feet of several thousands of others, with the excuse that: “if these men run away to another country, they will stir up revolt [against me]; in this manner I will keep them within my own kingdom, that they may not escape.” Such were his acts of cruelty. [In this book] there is no place for a further record of them. Haply they are contained in the book of the Most Merciful of Scribes. On this account, I will now close the description of these repulsive matters.

The rest of Mirzá Abá Bakr's reign will be related presently.

UBAID ULLAH KHÁN MARCHES FROM TURKISTÁN AGAINST BOKHÁRÁ. IS MET AT KUL MALIK BY BÁBAR PÁDISHÁH. A BATTLE TAKES PLACE, IN WHICH THE LATTER IS DEFEATED. EVENTS THAT ENSUED.

WHEN the Emperor, in Rajab of the year 917,^259c mounted the throne of Samarkand, as has been stated above, the learned men and nobles of Mávará-un-Nahr were indignant at his attachment to Sháh Ismail and at his adoption of the Turkomán style of dress. When that winter had passed and spring had set in (the plentiful drops of her rain having clothed the earth in green raiment) the Uzbeg advanced out of Turkistán. Their main body marched against Táshkand, while Ubaid Ullah went to Bokhárá by way of Yati Kuduk. As the citadel of Táshkand had been fortified by Amir Ahmad Kásim Kuhbur, [the Emperor] sent him some reinforcements, under the command of such men as Amir Dust Násir, Sultán Muhammad Duládi,^260a and others, while he himself [the Emperor] advanced on Bokhárá. When he neared the town, news of his approach reached Ubaid Ullah Khán, who [becoming alarmed] immediately drew his bridle and returned along the road by which he had just come. The Emperor pursued him, overtook him at Kul Malik, and compelled him to retreat. Ubaid Ullah Khán had 3000 men with him, while the Emperor had 40,000.^260b Ubaid Ullah Khán having repeated to the end of the verse: “And how often has not a small force defeated a large one, by the permission of God?” [faced the Emperor], and a fierce battle began to rage. God, the most high, has shown to the peoples of the earth, and especially to kings and rulers, that no boast is to be made of, no reliance to be placed in, the numbers of an army nor their equipment; for He in His might gives victory to whomsoever He will.

Thus Ubaid Ullah Khán, with 3000 shattered [rikhta] men, who eight months previously had retreated before this same force, now entirely defeated an army of 40,000, perfectly equipped and mounted on fine horses [tupchák].^260c This event occurred in Safar of the year 918.^260d The Emperor had reigned eight months in Samarkand.

When the Emperor returned to Samarkand, he was unable to get a firm footing upon the steps of the throne, and so bidding farewell to the sovereignty of Samarkand, he hastened to Hisár. He sent one ambassador after another to Sháh Ismail, to inform him of what had passed, and to beg for succour. Sháh Ismail granted his request, and sent Mir Najm, his commander-in-chief,^260e with 60,000 men, to his aid. Thus at the beginning of the winter succeeding that spring, [the allies] once more marched against the Uzbeg. On reaching Karshi, they found that Shaikham Mirzá, the uncle of Ubaid Ullah Khán, had strengthened the fort of Karshi. They, therefore, began by laying siege to the fort, which they quickly reduced. Then they put to death Shaikham Mirzá, and massacred the whole of the people of the fort, killing both high and low—the sucklings and the decrepit.

Of the Uzbeg Sultáns, each one had fortified himself in his own castle. Thus Jáni Beg Sultán had stood on the defensive in the fort of Ghajdaván. When the Turkománs had finished with Karshi, they asked the Emperor about the condition of all the fortified cities of Mávará-un-Nahr, and he described them one by one. It appeared that the easiest of all to take was that of Ghaj-daván; towards it, therefore, they marched. The Uzbeg Sultáns heard of their coming, and entered the fort on the same night that the Turkománs and the Emperor, who were encamped before the place, were busy preparing their siege implements. At dawn they arranged their forces in the midst of the suburbs, and stood facing [the enemy]. On the other side, too, preparations were made for a fight.^261a Since the Uzbeg were in the midst of the suburbs, the field of battle was narrow. The Uzbeg infantry began to pour forth their arrows from every corner, so that very soon the claws of Islám twisted the hands of heresy and unbelief, and victory declared for the true faith. The victorious breezes of Islám overturned the banners of the schismatics. [The Turkománs] were so completely routed, that most of them perished on the field; all the rents that had been made by the swords at Karshi, were now sewn up with the arrow stitches of vengeance. They sent Mir Najm and all the Turkomán Amirs to hell. The Emperor retired, broken and crestfallen, to Hisár.

And now a difference arose between the Emperor and those Moghul Amirs who, when the Khán went [to Andiján], had stayed behind and entered the Emperor's service. To make a long story short, one night, Ayub Begjik, Mir Muhammad, Yádgár Mirzá and Nazar Mirzá, in company with the rest of the Moghuls, fell upon the Emperor so unexpectedly that he was with difficulty able to escape, naked, into the castle of Hisár; while [the conspirators] having plundered all they could find outside [the fort], marched away towards the mountains of Karátigin. The Emperor was powerless to oppose them: having left several of his trusted Amirs to defend the castle of Hisár, he himself proceeded to Kunduz. The whole province of Hisár, except the fort, fell into the hands of the Moghuls. The Moghuls have a proverb which runs: when a place is left unoccupied, the pigs will mount to the top of the hillock…^261b They withdrew the hand of tyranny and oppression from the sleeve of violence and enmity, and seized upon the households, families, possessions and cattle of all the people. One of the most distinguished of those Moghuls, who was in my service [at one time], used to relate: “They once [by way of paying my allowance] gave me an assignment [barát] for obtaining provisions, which was addressed to one of the inferior officials at Vakhsh. I alighted at his house and showed him my assignment. He pondered for a while; then he came out and displayed before my view about 200 horses, and a proportionate number of sheep, camels, slaves, household furniture, clothes and [various] materials, saying: ‘I entreat you to let me and my children and wives go with the clothes we have on, while you take possession of all that is here, and release me from the balance of the sum that is mentioned in the order.’ When I had reckoned up the value of the cattle and property, though it came to a considerable sum, it was only half of that entered in the assignment.” This story shows what degree of tyranny, violence and oppression they had begun to practise. Whatever property or flocks they found among the people of Hisár, they extorted from the owners, whom they ruined with waste and extravagance. There ensued a terrible famine among the Musulmáns,^262a and in the whole town of Hisár [only] sixty persons survived. The living eat the dead, and when these had died in such a condition that no nourishment was left in their flesh, the living fell upon one another. The end of these odious and revolting scenes was, that out of those thirty or forty thousand people, only about two thousand escaped, leaving their property behind; the rest were all engulfed in the ocean of violence, or annihilated with the sword of vengeance. The women and children were led away captive by the Uzbeg, and bear the burden of the ignominy to this day.

To add to all this distress and suffering, that winter there was such a prolonged and incessant snowfall, that the plains became like hills and the hills like plains. But as for that abominable race [the Uzbeg], as their tyranny and cruelty increased, so did their prosperity decrease. They, also, began to suffer from want of grain; and as the fodder all lay buried under the snow in the plains, they had nothing to give their horses; nor could they find any corn for themselves. Thus were these cursed people likewise reduced to great distress, and became impotent.

When news of their helpless condition reached Ubaid Ullah Khán, most of whose efforts were guided [at least] by good intentions, he felt it his bounden duty, both from a desire to restore order in the country, and also from a sense of right and justice, to go and expel these evil doers. At the end of the winter, therefore, he set out for Hisár. When [the Moghuls] heard of the approach of the Uzbeg, they knew not which way to turn, for they had themselves darkened their road to the Emperor; nor did they think fit to go to the Khán in Andiján, because whenever they might enter the Khán's service, they would be obliged to do some work which they considered beneath their dignity: the hands of their tyranny would be cut off and the feet of their insubordination crushed. On this account they abhorred the idea of going to the court of the Khán. Moreover, the roads were rendered impassable by the snow. For these several reasons, they took up a strong position in the mountains of the Surkháb and of Vakhsh. On one side it was protected by the River Surkháb, on two others by the mountains, while on the remaining side was deep snow, on which they placed much reliance.

When the Uzbeg drew near, they reconnoitred on all sides and found the enemy well fortified. As the Ustád says: “Life is like snow under the summer sun.” The snow on the one flank, on which they had put reliance, thawed a few days later, and left a very broad way through the defile. This wide passage caused joy to [the Uzbeg] and depression to those wicked [Moghuls]. One morning the Uzbeg charged down upon [the Moghuls], who, when they saw them coming, threw themselves into the water … (Couplet)… Most of those wretches passed through the water to the flames of hell, some few escaped; and all those who had not reached the river, went to hell by way of the flashing scimitar. Those that survived were taken prisoners, and all the suffering that they had inflicted on the people in Hisár during a year, God Almighty now caused, by the hand of Ubaid Ullah Khán, to descend upon them in one hour … (Couplets) … All those that escaped the Hisár river and the glittering sword, went to the Khán in Andiján, in the condition that has been described, or rather, their condition would not be possible to describe.

I have heard Mir Ayub relate: “Often, when I experienced ill-treatment from the Moghuls, and witnessed their dealings with the people [in Hisár], I have prayed to God to hasten to send down calamity upon them, that true Musulmáns might thereby be delivered.” The moral to be drawn from this story is that one should shun cruelty, which embitters life and destroys happiness: one should practise justice, which strengthens prosperity and sweetens life. “Divine aid is a precious thing, and is only given to the faithful servant.”^263a In short, through the villany of that tribe [the Moghuls], Hisár fell from the hands of the Emperor. and came under the domination of the Uzbeg. So long as the Emperor entertained any hopes [of recovering Hisár], he remained in Kunduz, though exposed to the greatest distress and want. Mirzá Khán possessed that country, but in spite of his entire subordination [to the Emperor], he was not able to give up his own country to oblige him. The Emperor, with his accustomed courtesy, bore the situation patiently, and made no attempt to deprive Mirzá Khán of his dominions. At last, despairing altogether of recovering Hisár, he returned to Kábul.

When he conquered Mávará-un-Nahr, he left Sultán Násir Mirzá upon the throne of Kábul. On learning the Emperor's approach, Sultán Násir Mirzá came out to receive him, with protestations of devotion and respect, saying: “When you withdrew your foot from the throne of the glorious kingdom of Kábul, you entrusted the high honour of government to me. And I have guarded this imperial treasure for you until, through the changes of fortune and the revolving of the spheres, you have again come to place your noble foot upon the steps of the throne. I would now crave your permission to be allowed to return to my former government of Ghazna, and would be most grateful if a few Amirs, of whom I stand in need, were appointed to my service.” This devotion on the part of Sultán Násir Mirzá made a deep impression on the mind of the Emperor, who showed his gratitude by many favours, and allowed him to return to Ghazna, where Sultán Násir Mirzá died soon after [dar hamán ayyám]. Whereupon grave disputes arose among the Amirs in Ghazna, which shall be spoken of in their proper place. The Emperor remained in Kábul until the conquest of Kandahár; after that he conquered Hindustán, which shall likewise be mentioned in its right place.

IT has already been briefly related how the Khán, on the 14th of Safar, in the year 917,^264a separated from the Emperor, and went to Andiján; also how he defeated [Mirzá Abá Bakr] and the Kásh-ghari [at the battle of Tutluk]. At the same time the Emperor seized Samarkand: while the Khán became absolute master of Andiján. In speaking of the children of Sultán Ahmad Khán, it was mentioned that Sultán Khalil Sultán, being in great distress, had come to Andiján, and that Jáni Beg Sultán had been affected in the brain, by falling from his horse onto his head.

At the time when Sultán Khalil Sultán came [to Andiján], Jáni Beg Sultán ordered my uncle, Sayyid Muhammad Mirzá, Sultán Ali Mirzá Begjik, and Tubra Nuyághut,^264b to kill Sultán Khalil Sultán, in order that he might be assured that they were cut off from the Moghuls, otherwise [he feared that], on the first opportunity, they would stir up a rebellion and attach themselves to the Moghul Khákáns. These three, fearing for their own lives, drowned Sultán Khalil Sultán in the river of Akhsi. The Sultán was younger brother to the Khán.^265a

So long as the Uzbeg had the upper hand and were successful, these three men lived in peace; but when the Uzbeg were overthrown, they grew apprehensive lest the Khán should take vengeance upon them for that crime [and this thought was never out of their minds]. One day the Khán, in a state of intoxication, killed Tubra. It came about in this wise. Tubra was a rude, unpolished man, who had never been in personal attendance on the Khákáns, but had always lived in the deserts of Moghulistán and Uzbegistán, engaged in forays [kazáki] and skirmishes [karávuli].^265b He was ignorant of the manners of an Amir. He now looked upon himself as one of the pillars of the State, and thought that for him to speak gently or courteously to a prince was but flattery, while flattery was the vilest of qualities; that coarse speech was a sign of power, and that a rough manner and the non-observance of the rules of politeness due to a king, should be regarded as a mark of dignity in himself. The people thought he was insane, and that pride had thickened the fibres of his brain. In spite of fear and apprehension, he had certainly made roughness of speech and rude manners his second nature. One day, at a feast given by the Khán, the wine was passing freely, and Tubra's head became hot with intoxication; reason left his brain, and in its place came pride and wickedness. All those thoughts which, when sober, he kept to himself, he now let free with full force, and began to talk wildly. It was in vain that the Khán expostulated and pointed out to him that his railleries were out of place: that he should not let loose the reins of coarse speech and vulgarity. Tubra retorted in a speech reflecting on the Khan's family.^265c At this answer, the Khán quite lost control over his temper, and the harvest of his patience was consumed; he then and there gave orders for Tubra's head to be struck off and hung over the gate, as an example to all not to forget the respect due to authority.

When Sultán Ali Mirzá, who was one of the three, heard of this event, he fled to the Emperor in Samarkand, and joined his brothers, Mir Ayub, Mir Muhammad, and Mir Ibráhim. My uncle, Sayyid Muhammad Mirzá, who was their leader, was plunged into the greatest alarm. This event had occurred at Akhsi, while my uncle was in Andiján. The Khán immediately sent off Mir Kambar, in great haste, from Akhsi [to explain the matter to my uncle], saying: “Tubra was an ass; but no ass would endure him, even to buckle on his nose-bag.^265d Moreover, he had entirely given himself up to the paths of rudeness.” Mir Kambar succeeded in quieting the Khán with this message. Soon after this, the Khán himself came to Andiján. Here he treated my uncle with such friendliness and affection, as to blot out all fears from the latter's mind, and such a firm friendship was established between them, that it lasted all their lives. In later times the Khán never mentioned my uncle's name without shedding tears of affection.

IT has been already related that in Rajab of the year 915,^267a I left Mirzá Khán and proceeded to Kábul, to be honoured by the blessed glance of the Emperor, who welcomed and entertained me with the warmest affection. In public he ranked me with his brothers and nephews; but in private he regarded me with a truly paternal eye, as one of his own children, and I was the special object of his fatherly sympathy. So much did he comfort me, that he entirely banished from my mind the bitterness of orphanage, and grief at separation from my friends. Thus did I pass my time in perfect ease and contentment. In the meanwhile the Emperor resolved to lead an army against Kunduz, as has been already mentioned. It was the season of the polar star, and in the rigour of Dai,^267b when he said to me, with great affection: “The difficulty of the road and the coldness of the air are extreme. [You had better] stop in Kábul this winter. When spring comes, and the air is cleared of the bitter cold, you can come to me.” But I remonstrated with him, saying: “In this country, it is the consideration and kindness of the Emperor which have enabled me to endure the bitterness of my desolation. If the Emperor leaves me behind, to whom shall I turn for comfort?” When he saw that to insist upon my remaining behind, in Kábul, would prey upon my mind and break my heart, he ordered such preparations for my journey to be made as the limited time allowed, and permitted me to accompany him to Kunduz.

As many of my father's old followers were among the Moghuls, they all hastened, at this crisis, to enter my service, bringing with them such presents and offerings as their circumstances admitted. In short, I was well equipped with arms and men. More especially [I must mention] my foster-father, Ján Ahmad Ataka, whose name will frequently occur hereafter, in its proper place; he, together with the rest of my father's old retainers, attached himself to me. This Ataka was a trustworthy man, and had distinguished himself by his personal exploits at the time of the Uzbeg ascendency. He had made a goodly collection of horses and arms, which he put at my service. It was thus that he was employed until the winter, when [the Emperor] led his army into the Dasht-i-Kulak, as has been mentioned. I personally accompanied that expedition. On our return from the Dasht-i-Kulak, in the spring, the Emperor sent the Khán to Andiján. The Khán was very anxious to take me with him in his service, and, I for my part, had a strong desire to go. But when I asked leave of the Emperor, his blessed heart became heavy, and he put all such ideas on one side. Thus the Khán went to Andiján, while I remained in the service of the Emperor.

Soon after this, followed the campaign of Hisár, in which the battle with Hamza Sultán and the defeat of the Uzbeg occurred. In the former engagement, the aforesaid Ján Ahmad Ataka led my men into battle, and having captured one of the Uzbeg chiefs alive, brought him to the Emperor, who promised him a reward for his bravery [juldu],^268a saying: “This is Mirzá Haidar's first exploit, and is a good omen.” He then ordered them to record the juldu in the book, under Mirzá Haidar's name. This story has been already related.

I was with the Emperor when he captured Samarkand. In mentioning my father's children, I said that the eldest of all was Habiba Sultán Khánish; [she was my full sister] and had fallen to Ubaid Ullah Khán. When Ubaid Ullah fled from Karshi to Bokhárá and entered Turkistán, he was not able to look after his own family properly. Every one who could find means to make that difficult journey went; those who could not, stayed behind. Among these last was my sister, Habiba Sultán Khánish, whom I joined in Bokhárá. We then came to Samarkand, where we found my uncle, who had come, that winter, from the Khán in Andiján, on business of the State. Having settled his affairs to the best of his powers, he returned to Andiján, taking with him my sister, whom on his arrival he gave in marriage to the Khán.

In the spring of that year, when the Emperor went to encounter Ubaid Ullah Khán at the battle of Kul Malik, I was detained in Samarkand by an access of fever. When the Emperor retired to Samarkand discomfited, and then again departed [being unable to remain there], I was in a state of convalescence; nevertheless, I continued to follow him to Hisár. The Khán sent messengers several times to the Emperor to fetch me, and at last, displeased and irritated, he gave me leave to go. In my childish folly I did not (as it was my duty to do) pay attention to the Emperor's consent [but determined to go to Andiján]. Thus, on the arrival of Mir Najm, the Emperor mounted his horse and joined the expedition, while I set out for Andiján. I have already mentioned how the Emperor joined Mir Najm. I [as I say] went to Andiján; but before reaching my destination, the Khán^268b had been put to rout by Suyunjuk Khán, and returned to Andiján just as I arrived there. This occurred in Rajab of the year 918. From that date to the day of the Khán's death, in Zulhijja 939,^269a I remained constantly in his service, and was all the while distinguished by his regard and liberality. In short, until he conferred upon me the rank of Kurkáni, I was never absent from him. At night, where-ever his bed was spread, one was also spread for my convenience, at his side. At royal banquets, the right hand of my fortune was joined to the left hand of the Khán's favour. Whenever a consultation was held, my uncle was sure to be at the head of the meeting [sar-i-daftar], but he gave me precedence over my uncle; nay more, he did so at the request of my uncle, who used frequently to point out to the Khán that [although] I was only the son of his brother, still he recognised that my precedence over him was not only proper, but necessary. When he rode out, I always rode at his side; and when he went hunting, he used to instruct me in the sport [and initiate me into its secrets and subtleties]. He used to lead the hunt himself, for he was a keen sportsman. He never allowed me out of his sight, but used to persuade me to go hunting with him, and if ever I showed any reluctance, he would compel me to enjoy it. He used to set me various tasks to do, at the same time pointing out what benefit I should derive [from doing them], and would say: “Until young men begin to perform duties, they can never gain experience. [Otherwise] in important affairs and in large assemblies, in mosques and in the battlefield, where the leaders of the people, whether Khákáns or Sultáns or Amirs, take part, they become confused, and meet with opposition from their people. But when young men practise themselves in the business of their elders, they gain insight into the particulars of their various duties, and in all such matters as wars and the like, they acquire a certain confidence. This self-reliance gains for them the esteem of the people, which strengthens their authority. In the performance of these duties they learn to recognise their own merits and demerits, and to judge of the best modes of action.

“While in the service of my father and my uncle, I had these principles indelibly engraved upon my heart, and they used to make me perform numerous duties, that I might turn the advantages derived from them to the best possible account. What I learnt from my elders I now am teaching you, that you, in turn, may also profit by it.”

Till the age of twenty-four, I was employed in every kind of service, and all that the Khán gave me to do, both great things and small, I carried out single-handed. But if, even in the councils of the Amirs, in which I had my special place, an opportunity of some service presented itself to me, the Khán would forbid my performing it, saying: “In the battlefield you must remember your rank, so that you may not fall in the estimation of the people.” When I was between twenty-four and twenty-five years of age, he bade me desist from all these services, and said: “All that I have given you to do, you have done well. Now you can return to your favourite pursuits.” Thereafter, till the age of thirty, he entrusted to me the affairs of the army. But he caused me to be attended by men of judgment and experienced Amirs, and instructed me never to deviate from what they considered right, but to follow them in all matters. When several campaigns [lashkar] had been carried through in this way, he gave me leave to speak my mind in debates and plans of action. Up to the age of thirty I had never received this permission, nor had I ever spoken in an assembly, but had always remained silent. After sanction was accorded me, however, I spoke much, and whenever I used to speak in the assemblies, the Khán would say to me: “Explain this matter more fully, give us your proofs and your reasonings.” If I explained myself well and said what was fitting, he would praise me, and desire the people to applaud; and when I did not say exactly what was right, he would add: “What he means to say is so-and-so”; and thus would improve my words and satisfy the Amirs.

When some time had passed in this way, he said to me: “I have now learnt to rely on you thoroughly;” he then entrusted to me the entire management of the army and the direction of the government, giving me, in these matters, absolute freedom of action, together with sanction to issue mandates and firmáns. When I returned from my expedition into Kashmir, and came to kiss the Khán's feet in Tibet,^270a he called me by no other name than “brother,” both in private and in public. The details connected with [these events] will be given in the account of the Khán. I shall not record the rest of my own life until I have related the end of his.

[SOON] after I entered the Khán's service, news arrived of the defeat of the Emperor and Mir Najm at Ghajdaván. This was at the beginning of the same winter in which the Moghuls revolted against the Emperor, when the severe famine broke out in Hisár, [and much snow fell]. During that winter the whole of the province endured great misery and want.

At this crisis, news came of Suyunjuk Khán's march [on Andiján]. Three months previously [the Khán] had been defeated [by Suyunjuk], and his power of resistance had been broken. After much deliberation, it was resolved that my uncle should fortify himself in the citadel of Andiján; that Mir Ghuri Barlás should defend Akhsi and Mir Dáim Ali should hold the citadel of Marghinán, while the Khán should retire to the hills on the north of the province of Andiján, with his family and the rest of the army; for it would be difficult for the Uzbeg to come into the hills [to fight], and the fact that the Khán was still in the field [birun] would make them fear to besiege the citadels. Having decided upon these plans, they were at once put into execution. When Suyunjuk Khán learnt this, he did not see fit to advance, but abandoning his purpose, remained quietly where he was for that winter.

In the spring, news came of Kásim Khán. The incidents were as follows. When the Emperor conquered Mávará-un-Nahr, he gave Táshkand [in charge] to Mir Ahmad Kásim Kuhbur, and Sairám to the latter's brother, Kitta Beg. When the Emperor left Samarkand and went to Hisár, the Uzbeg, having regained their composure, laid siege to Táshkand, and at length reduced the defenders to great straits. One night, however, [the garrison] rushed out of the citadel, and attacking one corner of the Uzbeg army, got away. The Uzbeg looked upon their departure as a great blessing, and did not follow them, but were satisfied with the reduction of Táshkand. Afterwards, Mir Ahmad Kásim went to the Khán in Andiján, and on leaving that town, proceeded to join the Emperor in Hisár. But his brother, Kitta Beg, had put the citadel of Sairám into a state of defence, [lest the Uzbeg should come and besiege him], and could find no road for escape. All that winter he remained within his fortifications. Early in the spring he sent to Kásim Khán for help, saying: “If you will come to me, I will deliver the citadel of Sairám over to you.” With such words did he entice his brother and arouse his ambition, thus bringing him against Táshkand.

But at this point, in order to understand what follows, it is necessary to say something about Kásim Khán.

On the death of Abulkhair, differences arose between the Uzbeg Ulus. As many as were able, repaired to Karái Khán and Jáni Beg Khán, for the sake of peace and security; and in this way [the two Kháns] became very powerful. Since they had first of all separated from the mass of their people, and for some time had been in an indigent and wandering state, they got the name of Kazák, which has clung to them [ever since].

On the death of Karái Khán, his son Baranduk Khán succeeded to the Khánship, while Kásim Khán, son of Jáni Beg Khán, like his father, became obedient and submissive to Baranduk Khán. In addition to Baranduk Khán, Karái Khán had many sons, and Jáni Beg Khán had others besides Kásim Khán. Among [Jáni Beg's sons] was Adik Sultán, who married Sultán Nigár Khánim, the fourth daughter of Sultán Yunus Khán, on the death of Mirzá Sultán Mahmud, son of Sultán Abu Said Mirzá. After the devastation of Táshkand, Adik Sultán abandoned Sháhi Beg Khán to join the Kazák, and was followed by Sultán Nigár Khánim. But Adik Sultán dying soon after this, Kásim Khán took Sultán Nigár Khánim to wife. At the death of Adik Sultán, Kásim Khán obtained complete ascendency, and Baranduk was Khán in name only. Finally he banished Baranduk Khán, who repaired to Samarkand and died in exile.

Kásim Khán now brought the Dasht-i-Kipchák under his absolute control, in a manner that no one, with the exception of Juji Khán, had ever done before. His army exceeded a thousand thousand. In the year 924 he died, whereupon contests ensued among the Kazák Sultáns. He was succeeded in the Khánate by his son Mumásh Khán, who, in one of the wars, died of shortness of breath,^273a and was succeeded by Táhir Khán, son of Adik Sultán. Being a harsh man, he practised much cruelty, so that his people, who numbered about 400,000 persons, suddenly deserted him and dispersed, while he was left alone among the Kirghiz, and died, at last, in misery.

Nearly 30,000 men being now collected together in Moghulistán, they appointed as their Khán, Bulásh^273b Khán, brother of Táhir Khán. But the wheel of Fate has made such strange revolutions, that for the last four years, not a trace has been visible of these people. In the year '30, the Kazák numbered a thousand thousand; in the year '44, not a vestige of all this host remains on the face of the earth. They will be frequently mentioned [in this history] in connection with the Khán. Such is the story of the Kazák.

Even previous to the time of Kásim Khán's assumption of the title of Khán, his power was so great that no one considered Baranduk Khán; nevertheless he did not wish to live side by side with Baranduk Khán, because, if near him, he would not be able to pay him due respect, but would offer him opposition; and [he felt that] if he did treat him with honour, he could not reconcile passive submission with his own private convictions. He therefore kept at a distance. Baranduk Khán lived at Sarai Chuk,^274a and Kásim Khán, in order to be far away from him, went to the confines of Moghulistán. He made Karátál^274b his winter quarters, intending, early in the spring, to return to his original capital; when one of Kitta Beg's men, with some of the chief inhabitants of Sairám, arrived, bringing the keys of Sairám and beseeching him to accept the town, which he did. He then marched on Taráz, which the Moghuls call Yángi. In advance of himself, he despatched one of his own Amirs, into whose hands Kitta Beg delivered the town of Sairám. [Kitta Beg waited on Kásim Khán in person, and induced him to attack Táshkand.] Kásim Khán then set out with a countless army for Táshkand, where Suyunjuk Khán had fortified himself within the citadel. Kásim Khán arrived, spent one night outside, and then turned back again, plundering all the environs of Táshkand as he went. The rest of the events of Kásim Khán's life will be related in their proper place.

IN the spring of the year 918, the Shaibán Uzbeg (by which name is meant the followers of Sháhi Beg Khán) had become absolute masters of Mávará-un-Nahr. The fear of them had sunk into every heart. That winter had been spent in the above-mentioned plot;^274c in the spring they were busy devising further schemes, and thinking what they should next attempt, when suddenly news of Kásim Khán's advance [on Táshkand] was brought to them. Before Kásim Khán's arrival, however, the Khán went and plundered Áhangarán, one of the most important towns in Táshkand, and I accompanied him on this foray. When, at early morn, we came upon the people of Áhangarán, they retired with their wives and children and effects into a wood, and there took up a strong position. On one side of the wood was a large river, and on the other a deep ravine, which could only be approached by one road. They would not allow the pillagers to approach, and when the Khán heard of this he put me under the care of Khwája Ali, saying: “Hold the bridle of Mirzá Haidar's horse, lest he get into some dangerous place.” For I was still too young to distinguish good from evil or to keep myself out of danger. [Having entrusted me to Khwája Ali, the Khán placed himself at the head of his men and advanced on the enemy.] When he drew near them, he saw that their foot bowmen had made ambushes in every corner, and were ready to shoot. They had stretched their bows, washed their hearts of life—made straight, crooked, and the left, right. As our men advanced, the Khán stimulated and encouraged the champions of his right and the warriors of his left, warning them not to ride impetuously, but to make a charge in one body. The heroes drew their horses up in line ready to charge, and so busy were they getting into order, that they did not notice the Khán, who had made a charge all alone. It had been the Khán's intention to conceal his design from them by his words. Thus he threw himself upon the enemy before any of the others. Three men who were lying in ambush let fly their arrows simultaneously at him; but by the mediation of the Almighty, they all three missed the mark. Then the Khán made his bright sword to flash upon one of those three men who, bleeding, and in fear for his life, fell at the feet of the Khán's horse. The Khán turned against another of them; but the first had just put out his head from behind the horse, when Abdul Váhid, who was the Rustem of the Khán's warriors, having followed close behind [his master] came up and struck a blow with his sword at the wounded man's head, which sent it flying a bow's length off, while the Khán fell upon the second. Then commenced a conflict, in which all the enemy were annihilated, and where the Khán exceeded all the other warriors in valour.^275a

On his return, in safety, from this expedition, laden with booty, the Khán learnt that Kásim Khán had attacked Suyunjuk Khán in Táshkand. Whereupon he immediately set out for that town, but on reaching the pass of Kandarlik, which is situated between the provinces of Farghána and Táshkand, news came of Kásim Khán's retreat. Returning, [the Khán] proceeded to Akhsi, and having put the various forts of the province of Farghána into a state of defence, he turned towards the Kazák, his object being to make them attack Táshkand a second time. I did not accompany that expedition; being indisposed, I stayed behind.

The Khán advanced [in the direction of the Kazák] till he came to a well-known town in Moghulistán called Jud.^276a At that date Kásim Khán was nearer seventy than sixty years of age; while the Khán, being still under thirty, was in the full vigour of youth. Kásim Khán begged, on the plea of old age, to be excused from coming out [in istikbál] to receive the Khán. He commanded all his Sultáns to go and kneel before the Khán, and receive him. Some of these Sultáns were fifty and sixty years old; such as Jánish Khán, Sabásh Khán, Mumásh Khán, Ján Haidar Sultán, Kárish Khán, and others to the number of thirty or forty—all Sultáns of the race of Juji. When Sabásh Khán^276b and Jánish Khán (who were very old)^276c bowed, the Khán rose up, but when the others bowed he remained seated. Then Kásim Khán advanced with a courtesy which the Khán, to the end of his life, never forgot. Whenever he was spoken of, the Khán used to say that Kásim Khán was a most upright and worthy man, and would then relate the circumstances of their friendship.

On meeting, Kásim Khán approached and said: “We are men of the desert, and here there is nothing in the way of riches or formalities. Our most costly possessions are our horses, our favourite food their flesh, our most enjoyable drink their milk and the products of it. In our country are no gardens or buildings. Our chief recreation is inspecting our herds. Therefore let us go and amuse ourselves with looking at the droves of horses, and thus spend a short time together.” When they came to where these were, he examined them all, and said: “I have two horses which are worth the whole herd.” These two were then brought forward; (and the Khán used to say that never in his life had he seen such beautiful animals as these two). Then Kásim Khán resumed: “We men of the desert depend for our lives upon our horses; and [personally] I put my trust in no others than these two. [I could not bear to part with either of them.] But you are my esteemed guest, so I beg you to accept whichever of them appears to you the better, and to leave the other for me.” Having examined the points of each, the Khán chose one which was called Ughlán Turuk; and truly such another horse was never seen. Kásim Khán then selected several others from his droves, and gave them to the Khán. He next offered the Khán a cup of the spirit kimiz, saying: “This is one of our forms of hospitality, and I shall esteem it a great favour if you will drink it.” Now the Khán, a short time before this, had renounced all intoxicating liquors; so he excused himself, saying: “I have foresworn such things as this: how can I break my vow?” To which Kásim Khán replied: “I have already told you that our favourite beverage is mare's milk and its products, and of these this [kimiz] is the pleasantest. If you do not accept what I now offer you, I am totally at a loss to know what to give you in its place, in performance of the duties of hospitality. Years must elapse before such an honourable guest as yourself again enters the house of your humble host; and now I am incapable of entertaining you. How can I make reparation for this?” So saying he hung down his head with shame, and marks of sorrow appeared upon his face. Thereupon, for his host's sake, the Khán drank the spirit to the dregs, to the great joy of Kásim Khán. Festivities [suhbat] then began, and during twenty days they continued to indulge together in quaffing cups of the spirit kimiz. The summer was just drawing to a close, and the Kazák set out, by Kázim Khán's orders, for winter quarters. Kásim Khán said: “To go and attack the Shaibáni, at this time, would involve great difficulties. Men of the desert do not think of winter at this season [without orders]. It is impossible. An expedition is not to be thought of at this time.” He then dismissed his army;^277a and with the utmost courtesy and regard, he bade the Khán farewell. He himself returned to his capital, while the Khán, much pleased with Kásim Khán, returned to Andiján. It was then autumn [tirmáh]. A learned man, to commemorate these events, discovered the chronogram: Ashti-i-Kazák, or “Peace with the Kazák” [919 A.H.]

AT the time of Sháh Ismail's victory over Sháhi Beg Khán, and the arrival of the Emperor in Samarkand, to lend his aid to the former, Hazrat Mauláná had left Samarkand and come to Andiján, as has been mentioned above. At the period of which I am now speaking, Hazrat Mauláná was living in the province of Farghána, and all the Amirs, of every degree, used to wait upon him, and profit by the blessing of his converse. I also took upon myself the duty of waiting on him frequently, and he continued to shower upon me the same kindly favours as he had done when I was a child in Uratippa (at the time of the calamities in Bokhárá); and by the blessing of which favours, I was rescued from that terrible abyss, all of which has been already explained.

Hazrat Mauláná performed miracles and wonders. Among others was the following: One of my father's retainers, Sayyidim Kukildásh, who was a disciple of Hazrat Mauláná, was one day waiting on the latter. Hazrat Mauláná, seeing that he looked sad, questioned him [as to the cause]. Sayyidim Kukildásh replied: “A certain person” (meaning me) “has come from Hisár in the hopes of obtaining the Khán's daughter in marriage, and being thus raised to the dignity of Kurkáni.^278a All the Amirs are now opposed to this match, and it is difficult to carry through anything that the Khán's Amirs have set their faces against. This is the reason of my sorrow and dejection.” Hazrat Mauláná then said: “I feel convinced that God has fore-ordained this union; therefore the efforts of the Amirs can avail nothing. This marriage will certainly take place.” When Sayyidim returned, he repeated to me the words of Hazrat Mauláná, and announced the good news. It was at this time that the Khán was away among the Kazák, but a few days later he returned, and raised me to that dignity which Hazrat Mauláná had foretold. Thus, in Rajab of the year 919 I was elevated to the rank of Kurkán.

AT the beginning of this book, in enumerating the offspring of Sultán Ahmad Khán, it was mentioned that the Khán had four daughters. The third daughter, Muhibb Sultán Khánim, on the death of [her first husband] was married to his brother, Sultán Mahmud Khán, who was martyred at Akhsi by order of Sháhi Beg Khán. Muhibb Sultán Khánim then remained with Kutuk Khánim, daughter of Sultán Mahmud Khán, and who, after the devastation of Táshkand, was given to Jáni Beg Sultán, as has been mentioned. After my uncle had risen up against Jáni Beg Sultán, and driven him out of the province of Farghána, Muhibb Sultán Khánim separated from Kutuk Khánim, who was her cousin. On the Khán's return to Andiján, she rejoined him. Of all his four sisters, the Khán loved her the best, so that when she came to him, he showed her the greatest regard and affection. The occasion of my marriage was celebrated by magnificent banquets and entertainments, which were remembered long after.

That winter the Khán took up his winter-quarters at Pishkharán, a township of Akhsi. In the middle of the same season, Mir Ghuri Barlás, Governor of Akhsi, died a natural death, whereupon the Khán moved from Pishkharán to Akhsi, where he remained the rest of the winter. Early in the spring, Mir Ayub and the Moghuls who had been in Hisár, having been defeated by Ubaid Ullah Khán, as above related, came [to Farghána].^280a The Khán gave Akhsi to Mir Ayub Begjik.

Meanwhile, news was brought that the Uzbeg were approaching. The reason for their coming was that, the year before, Kásim Khán had advanced [and had again retired], but during the whole of the spring, the Uzbeg were afraid [that he might advance again]. When winter set in, they were fearful lest Sháh Ismail should come and avenge Mir Najm, [taking advantage of] the low state of the Amu. For these reasons they had, for a whole year, desisted from attacking the Shaibáni.^281a When Sháh Ismail returned to Irák, and Kásim Khán, likewise, went back to his original residence, and Bábar Pádisháh fled to Kábul, there was nothing left for the Shaibán Uzbeg to attend to, but an expedition against the Khán and Andiján. So that spring they set out in full force against Andiján. On hearing of this, the Khán left the province of Farghána [and went to Káshghar], as will be told.

FROM the time when Sháh Ismail came from Irák and killed Sháhi Beg Khán in Merv, he inspired great dread among the Sultáns on all sides. Thanks to this dread, and with a little assistance from Sháh Ismail, the Emperor was able to meet and defeat Hamza Sultán. After this, his fame spread in every direction, and following up his success, he subdued Bokhárá and Samarkand [without difficulty], as has been related. When the Emperor a second time quitted Samarkand and retired to Hisár, [he asked Sháh Ismail for help]. Sháh Ismail, thereupon, sent him 60,000 men under the command of Mir Najm. They were, however, defeated at Ghajdaván, all [the Emperor's] arms and military accoutrements being lost [while Mir Najm perished]. On this account, [the Uzbeg] feared lest Sháh Ismail should march into Mávará-un-Nahr to avenge Mir Najm. They had been expecting this event the whole year, and made no expeditions in any direction.

At that period Sháh Ismail returned to Irák, where he was attacked by the Sultán of Rum, Sultán Salim, with an army of several hundred thousand men. Sháh Ismail met him with a force of 30,000, and a bloody battle was fought, from which he escaped with only six men, all the rest of his army having been annihilated by the Rumi. Sultán Salim made no further aggressions after this, but returned to Rum, while Sháh Ismail, broken and [with his forces] dispersed, remained in Irák. A short time after this event, he went to join his colleagues Nimrud and Pharaoh, and was succeeded by his son Sháh Tahmásp. This Sháh, likewise, was on several occasions exposed to the kicks of the Rumi army; moreover, from fear of the Rumi he was not able to maintain his accursed religion, nor uphold the evil practices of his father. He continues to sit on the throne of Irák down to the present day.

THE Uzbeg Shaibán, in the beginning of the winter of the year 918, had killed Mir Najm and defeated the Turkománs and the Emperor. In the spring of the same year they desisted from further aggressions on any side, being apprehensive both of Sháh Ismail's vengeance and Kásim Khán's invasion [istilá], as has been explained. But in the winter of 919 [1513], Sháh Ismail returned to Irák to oppose Sultán Salim the Rumi, while Kásim Khán in order to look to his own kingdom, went to Ubaira-Subaira.^282a The minds of the Shaibán being now set at rest with regard to these two formidable enemies, Ubaid Ullah Khán, near the end of the winter, set out for Hisár, delivered it from the tyranny of the Moghuls, and made an end of them, as mentioned before. In the spring of 920, the Shaibán marched against Andiján. On careful consideration, the Khán realised that in disputing over Andiján with the Uzbeg, there could result nothing but the dimness of trouble and ruin upon the mirror of his fortune. For those who had power to withstand them, had moved out of the Shaibán territory, and he who had offered them the stoutest resistance, namely Bábar Pádisháh, having placed the foot of despair in the stirrup of despondence, had gone back to Kábul. He thought the wisest plan for him was to retire from the country, before the enemy arrived. So the Khán set out for Káshghar, by way of Moghulistán. [Thus] the province of Farghána was joined on to Mávará-un-Nahr [under the domination of the Uzbeg].

The dignity of Khán was,^282b according to the old custom, vested in the eldest Sultán, who was Kuchum Sultán, and the heir-apparent [Kaalfa] was Suyunjuk Sultán, who however died before Kuchum Sultán, when Jáni Beg Sultán became the heir-apparent. He followed Suyunjuk Sultán, and Kuchum soon after journeyed along the same road. The Khánship now devolved upon Abu Said, son of Kuchum Khán, and on his leaving the throne of the Khánate vacant, Ubaid Ullah Khán sat in his place. From the year 911 down to the end of the reign of the last-mentioned Khán [Abu Said], he had, in reality, conducted the entire affairs of the State; and if he had chosen to assume the title of Khán, no one could rightfully have opposed him. Nevertheless [the Uzbeg] adhered to the old rule and conferred the Khánship upon the most advanced in years. After Abu Said, there remained no one older than [Ubaid Ullah] himself, and he therefore ascended the throne of the Kháns, and continued to perfume the world with the sweet breezes of justice and the scent of right-dealing, until the year 946,^283a when he bade this transitory earth adieu, and his pure soul passed to the regions of the blessed.

I have neither seen nor heard speak of such an excellent ruler as he, during the past hundred years. In the first place, he was a true Musulmán, religiously inclined, pious and abstinent; he also regulated all the affairs of religion, of the state, of the army, and of his subjects, in conformity with the ordinances of the Holy Law; never deviating from it one hair's-breadth. He was pre-eminent for his valour and for his generosity. He wrote seven different styles of handwriting, but best of all he wrote the Naskhi. He made several copies of the Korán and sent them to the two holy cities [Mekka and Medina]. He also wrote Naskh Táalik well. He possessed the diváns of the various Turki, Arabic and Persian poets. He was versed in the science of music, and several of his compositions are still sung by musicians. In short, he was a king endowed with every excellence, and during his lifetime, his capital Bokhárá, became such a centre of the arts and sciences, that one was reminded of Herat in the days of Mirzá Sultán Husain. Although both the Emperor and the Khán died before Ubaid Ullah Khán, and the account of the end of his days should have been given after their deaths had been recorded, yet since the stories of the Emperor and the Khán occupy much space, and since Ubaid Ullah Khán has no further connection with my story, I have summarily completed my account of him here. I shall have no further occasion to refer to the Uzbeg in this history.

IN the summer of the year 920, the Uzbeg Shaibán who were in Táshkand, advanced under the command of Suyunjuk Khán, against Andiján. When the Khán learnt this, he convened a meeting of all his Amirs and councillors, and they discussed what were the wisest steps to take in the matter. They tried to foresee the final issues of things, and were plunged in the ocean of meditation. [At last] my uncle said: “The neighbouring Sultáns are not inclined to sacrifice their reputation, and have gone to look after their own affairs. Our numbers are not sufficient to compete with the Shaibáni, nor are our armaments equal to theirs. If we offer their legions fight, however zealous and loyal we may be, we shall only be as men with broken weapons, and a defeat will not mean the destruction of one particular person, but will result in constant disputes and continual fighting. If, by some strange chance, matters should turn out otherwise, they will have to make reparation for what has gone before, and all their power will be destroyed. Such an advantage we should turn to account. We shall be able to make no reparation for what has passed. Nor will any amount of binding make that breakage whole.^284a

“The province of Farghána is the territory and ancient dwelling-place of the Chaghatái. The Shaibáni have deprived them of it by force and violence. We have become the guardians of the Chaghatái country. Now that all the Sultáns, in general, and the Chaghatái Sultáns in particular, have given up the contest, it would be absurd for us to engage in this dangerous affair on their account. If you wish to be on the safe side and consider the wisest plan, then block up the path of war and follow the road of flight, before the borders of this kingdom have been darkened by the dust of the enemy's army. Let our reins be drawn towards Moghulistán, which is the old home of the Moghuls; this will tend to the consolidation of the State. And yet another fact must be taken into consideration: namely, that Mirzá Abá Bakr, in the face of [the Khán's] victorious host, is like a wounded quarry, for has he not once before fought a pitched battle, at Tutluk, and been defeated? If we enter his province, and if he keeps a brave heart, he will probably again offer battle, and fighting with him will be an easy matter in comparison with fighting the Uzbeg. In fact, there will be little to fear and much to gain. Another point that ought to count in favour of this plan is that the Mirzá is over sixty years of age, and he has reigned close on fifty years. The Almighty has, during forty years, suffered him to exercise tyranny. The time has probably now come for his day of oppression to be changed to the night of annihilation. Moreover, he has cast aside all his own Amirs, and has neglected the leaders of his army, setting up in their places a number of mean people of low birth, who, by reason of their lack of judgment and small intelligence, stand in great fear of him. Therefore, we ought to direct all our energies, devote all our strength, to the conquest of Káshghar. Haply the opener of all gates will open to us the gate of victory. Finally, Mirzá Abá Bakr's men, who were my companions in the service of my brother, when they see me in your train, will probably return to me. And they will be a substantial assistance to us in conquering Káshghar.

“Although Mirzá Abá Bakr is my own brother, (Verse) … my loyalty and devotion are to the Khán alone: and any head that will not bow to him, verily will I bring it down, though it be that of my own brother. In my devotion to the Khán, no such consideration as a tie of brotherhood shall stand in the way. In the Mirzá's downfall, I now recognise the establishment of the Khán's prosperity. If my plan is approved, let it be at once proceeded with.”

When my uncle had finished his speech, the Khán, who had been listening with evident satisfaction, began to praise and commend him, saying: “My thoughts have for a long time been occupied with such considerations; but in our discussions, all the suggestions made have been either impossible or inexpedient. I find your plan most reasonable, and preferable to any other. My opinion is the opinion of Sayyid Muhammad Mirzá. If any one has anything further to say on the matter, let him speak.” All the Amirs were unanimous in their agreement, and began to approve my uncle's suggestion.

Being all of one mind, the Khán, in the month of Rabi-ul-avval, of the aforesaid year,^285a left Farghána before Suyunjuk Khán had entered it, and marched towards Káshghar by way of Moghulistán. At this time Mirzá Abá Bakr executed a very surprising work, the truth of which is attested by all who were in Káshghar at the time, and I myself have seen and measured the building …^285b Now, he had destroyed the ancient citadel of Káshghar a long time before, as well as its suburbs, and had carried the inhabitants off to Yarkand, while he had turned several inhabited places into cultivated fields. When he heard of the Khán's approach, he commanded a fort to be built on the banks of the River Tuman. I have taken the dimensions of that fort several times. It may include about fifty jarib, more or less, and its height in some places is twenty matá gaz.^286a The circumference of the towers at each angle is more than thirty gaz. On the ramparts, in most places, four horsemen can ride abreast. This huge fort was constructed in seven days, which is, of course, a most extraordinary feat, and confirms what has been said above, of Mirzá Abá Bakr's power and activity. It is now necessary to give some account of Káshghar.

KÁSHGHAR is an old and famous town.^286b In former times the Sultáns of Káshghar were of the family of Afrásiáb the Turk, whom the Moghuls call Bughá Khán. His genealogy is as follows: Afrásiáb, son of Pish, son of Dád Nashin, son of Tur, son of Afaridun. It is thus given in the Tárikh-i-Guzida, which has copied from the Mujma-ut-Tavárikh^286c of Khwája Rashid-ud-Din Fasl Ullah. In some other histories the descent is traced yet further. But God alone knows the truth.

Among the Sultáns of Káshghar was a certain Sátuk Bughrá Khán, who was converted to Islám in his early years. During his occupation of the throne, he brought over the whole country of Káshghar to the true faith. After his death, several of his descendants ruled in Káshghar, and even in Mávará-un-Nahr, until the conquest of Chingiz Khán.

[Tái Yáng Khán fled from Chingiz Khán. Kushluk, son of Tái Yáng Khán] took Káshghar from the vassals of the Gur Khán of Kara Khitái, who had himself taken it from the vassals of the descendants of Afrásiáb. At that time Sultán Osmán, of that family, was ruling in Samarkand and in the greater part of Mávará-un-Nahr. What passed between him and Khwárizm Sháh is to be found in every history.^287a

The rebellion of Kushluk and the conquest of Káshghar by the Moghuls, I have copied from the Jahán-Kushái, as it stands [there].

WHEN Chingiz Khán carried his victorious arms into the countries of the East, Kushluk, son of Tái Yáng Khán, fled by way of Bish Báligh, to the country of the Gur Khán. He wandered about among the hills, in great want, while those tribes who had accompanied him became scattered. Some people say that he was captured by a body of the Gur Khán's soldiers, who led him before their chief; another story is that he went and presented himself of his own accord. He at any rate remained some little time at the court of the Gur Khán. Sultán Muhammad Khwárizm Sháh rose in revolt against the Gur Khán, while other Amirs in the eastern quarter, rebelled also, and put themselves under the protection of the Emperor of the world, Chingiz Khán, by whose favour they obtained immunity from the evil acts of the Gur Khán. Kushluk then said to the Gur Khán: “My tribes are very numerous, and are scattered over all the territory of Imal, Kiyák,^288a and Bish Báligh, where they meet with opposition from every one. If you will allow me, I will cause them to assemble and with their assistance [I will bring the rebels again under your authority]. Thus will I help the Gur Khán; and I will not in any way deviate from his commands.” With such flattery and deceit did he throw the Gur Khán into the well of pride. Then having loaded him with gifts, he begged that the title of “Kushluk Khán” might be bestowed on him. The Gur Khán accepted the gifts and gave him the title he desired, whereupon, quick as an arrow shot from a bow, Kushluk left the territory of the Gur Khán and came to the country of Imal and Kiyák. When the report of the invasion of Kushluk got abroad, Tuktái, who was one of the Makrit Amirs, had fled and joined Kushluk. This was before the rumours of the conquests of the Emperor of the world, Chingiz Khán, had been spread abroad. And wherever they went, they were joined by bands of men, with whom they conducted forays— plundering and burning as they came and went.

When they heard of the successes of Muhammad Khwárizm Sháh, they sent numerous ambassadors to persuade him to attack the Gur Khán from the west. Kushluk, at the same time, was to attack him from the east, so as to bring him out of the centre [of his dominions]. [The conditions were that] if Sultán Muhammad Khwárizm Sháh should be the first to gain a victory, Almáligh, Khotan and Káshghar, which were in Kushluk's kingdom, should be ceded to him; but if, on the other hand, Kushluk should have the first success, Kará Khitái as far as Finákand should be delivered over to him. These conditions having been agreed upon, a treaty was concluded between them. (Finákand means Shahrukhia.)^289a Thus the two armies set out for Kará Khitái from opposite directions. Kushluk arrived before Sultán Muhammad Khwárizm Sháh [and defeated the Gur Khán], since the army of this Sultán was more distant. Then, having plundered his treasury, which was at Uzkand, he proceeded to Balásákun, where the Gur Khán himself was, and a pitched battle was fought at Jinuj,^289b in which Kushluk was, however, defeated, and most of his men being worn out [kufta] he retired and set about reorganising his army. He heard that the Gur Khán had returned from his war with Sultán Muhammad Khwárizm Sháh, and had been ill-treating the people of the province; also that the army had returned to its own country. Then, like lightning from a cloud, he rushed out to meet him, and having seized his followers, brought his kingdom and his army under his own power; he then demanded one of his daughters in marriage. Now the tribe of Náimán were mostly Christians [Tarsá],^290a and when he took that daughter in marriage, he made her abandon Christianity and become an idol worshipper.

After Kushluk had firmly established himself on the throne of Kará Khitái, he fought several battles with him [the Gur Khán?] at Jám Báligh,^291a and finally he surprised the Gur Khán on his hunting grounds, when having captured him, he put him to death.

The chief men of Káshghar and Khotan had also become hostile. The Gur Khán had imprisoned the son of the Khán of Káshghar. [Kushluk] now set him at liberty and sent him back to Káshghar. But the Amirs declined him, and before he had placed his foot within the city, they put him to death between the gates. At the time when the corn was ripe, Kushluk sent his army to eat or burn it. When the inhabitants had been deprived of three or four quarters of their income [dakhl] and corn, a famine broke out. The people of Káshghar suffered great distress, and had therefore to submit. After that, Kushluk marched away with his army. And his soldiers used to lodge in the houses of the people of Káshghar and mix with their families, so that [the Káshghari] had no homes left. [His troops] practised every form of violence and wickedness. They did everything to encourage idolatry, and no one was able to prevent them. They next went to Khotan, which they captured, and compelled all the inhabitants of the surrounding districts to abandon the religion of Muhammad, giving them the choice of becoming either Christians or idolaters. [Arabic quotation from Korán …] Verily God is forgiving and merciful. Having adopted the garments of sin, the cry of the Muazzin and the confession of the Unity of the God of Believers was no longer heard. The mosques were closed and the schools abandoned. One day they conducted the Imáms of Khotan out into the plains and began to argue with them. Among their number was Imám Alá-ud-Din of Khotan. He was asked questions and gave answers, and at length they hanged him up over the door of a college. Of this matter I shall speak presently. After this, the faith of Islám having lost all its splendour, the darkness of evil spread over all the servants of God, and they raised their supplications to heaven. [Five couplets in Arabic …] The arrow of their entreaties reached the target, and God heard and answered them.

When Kushluk was setting out to attack the kingdoms of Chingiz Khán, the latter sent a body of Nuin^292a to check Kushluk's evil progress. He [Kushluk] was, at that time, in Káshghar. The chief men of Káshghar related that when [the Nuin] arrived, and before they had drawn up in line, Kushluk turned his back and fled, while the regiments that arrived one after the other, of the Moghuls [az Moghulán], demanded nothing of them but news of Kushluk. They sanctioned the “call to prayer” [Takbir] and the prayers [Uzán]; and they issued a proclamation in the town, that every one might practise his own religion. The advent of those people was held to be an act of mercy and bounty from the Almighty. When Kushluk fled, every one who lived in a Musulmán town or house, suddenly disappeared, like quicksilver; and the Moghul army went in pursuit of Kushluk. Wherever he halted, they came up behind him and drove him on, like a mad dog, until they reached the frontier of Badakhshán, which is called Darázukhán.

When he arrived at Sarigh Chupán, he missed the road, and entered a valley that had no egress. There happened to be a party of Badakhsháni hunters in those hills, and when they saw [the fugitive party] they went towards them, while the Moghuls advanced from the other side. The valley being rough, the Moghuls found walking difficult, and came to an agreement with the hunters, saying: “This band, namely Kushluk and his followers, have escaped from us; if you will capture them and give them over to us, we will do them no harm.” So they went and surrounded [Kushluk] and his party, and having bound him, delivered him up to the Moghuls, who cut off his head and carried it away with them. The Badakhsháni, having found endless booty and precious stones, returned.

How clear it is that no one can ever be victorious who opposes the religion of Ahmad and the Holy Law of Muhammad; while he who promotes it becomes more successful day by day!

WHEN Kushluk conquered Káshghar and Khotan, he changed from the religion of Jesus to the practice of idolatry, and the rest of the people he caused to abandon Hanifism and become fire worshippers. He changed the lights of the true path into the darkness of unbelief, and the service of the all merciful into the serfdom of Satan…^293a

Thus far, I have copied from the Tárikh-i-Jahán-Kushái.

After Chingiz Khán had subjugated the whole of Káshghar, he went and set his mind at rest with regard to the affairs of Irán and Turán—nay, rather of the whole world.^293b He then returned to his capital and divided all his kingdoms among his four sons. We learn from the Mujma-ut-Tavárikh of Rashidi and from the Guzida (the former entering into detail, the latter giving it in brief), that the whole of the Dasht-i-Khizr and [Dasht-i]-Kipchák, whose boundaries are Rum, the ocean [Muhit] Mávará-un-Nahr, and Moghulistán, was given to his eldest son, Juji Khán. Moghulistán, Kará Khitái,^293c Turkistán and Mávará-un-Nahr to Chaghatái Khán. To Tuli he gave the whole of Khitái, while his original seat of government, that is to say Karákorám and the Kálmák [country] he entrusted to Uktái. In the same manner he distributed his army and his Amirs; and in that division, the Dughlát fell to the lot of Chaghatái, who entrusted to them Mangalái Suyah, which means “facing the sun” [Aftáb rui].^294a This country is bounded by Shásh, Chálish, Issigh Kul and Sárigh Uighur; and on the confines of these four limiting provinces are situated Káshghar and Khotan. The particular Dughlát who was established in this kingdom, was Amir Bábdághán,^294b in whose family it remained, from father to son, until the time of Mirzá Abá Bakr. The Jám-i-Giti Numái^294c says that Káshghar is the most important town of the Turks, and goes on to describe several objects in it, of which now no trace remains. Among other things it says is, that people used to carry clothing of ermine [Kakum] and squirrel [Sinjáb] from Káshghar to all parts. But nowadays there are no such [animals] to be found there.

Káshghar is bounded on the north by the mountains of Moghul-istán, which stretch from west to the east, and from them rivers flow towards the south. Those hills extend from Shásh, on one side, to beyond Turfán [on the other], their extremities reaching into the land of the Kálmák, which quarter none but the Kálmák themselves have seen, or know anything about. I have questioned some of those who have seen something of that country, but I can recall nothing of what they told me, which would be worthy of mention in this book. Moghulistán will [afterwards] he described shortly. From Shásh to Turfán is three months' journey. On the west side of Káshghar is another long mountain range, of which the mountains of Moghulistán are an off-shoot [munshaib]. This range runs from north to south. I travelled on those mountains for six months without coming to their extremity. They also shall be presently described, in the account of Tibet. From these mountains, rivers run from west to east, and to these rivers Káshghar owes its fertility [ábádáni]. The whole of the countries of Khotan, Yárkand and Káshghar lie at the base of these mountains. To the east and south of Káshghar and Khotan are deserts, which consist of nothing but heaps of shifting sands, impenetrable jungles, waste lands and salt-deserts. In ancient times there were large towns in these [wastes], and the names of two of them have been preserved, namely Lob and Katak; but of the rest no name or trace remains: all are buried under the sand. Hunters, who go there after wild camels, relate that sometimes the foundations of cities are visible, and that they have recognised noble buildings such as castles, minarets, mosques and colleges, but that when they returned a short time afterwards, no trace of these was to be found; for the sand had again overwhelmed them. On such a scale were these cities of which, nowadays, neither name nor vestige remains! In a word, the habitable districts of Káshghar and Khotan lie along the western skirts of these mountains. On the frontier of Káshghar is the district of Artuj;^295a from there to the confines of Khotan, at Kariyá and Jariyá,^295b is one month's journey. But as for the breadth of fertility of the cultivated region (from the foot of the western range to the eastward) by travelling quickly one can leave all cultivation behind in a day or two. On the banks of every stream that comes down from that range, corn is sown and the land is cultivated.

The first of these is the River Timan,^295c which comes from a mountain standing between Káshghar and Farghána. This river flows between the ancient citadel of Káshghar, which Mirzá Abá Bakr destroyed, and the new one which he built, on the banks of this river, as has been related. Part of Káshghar is fertilised by this same river. The second river is the Kará Tázghun. In the dialect of Káshghar, Tázghun means a river.^295d It flows about three farsákhs to the south of the above mentioned fort. The greater part of the province of Káshghar is watered by it. At a distance of three farsákhs from it, is a third river called Kusán Tázghun, on the banks of which is the town of Yángi-Hisár, and its dependent districts. The town is supplied with water by this river. The distance from Káshghar to Yángi-Hisár is six statute [shari] farsákhs. At about six farsákhs from Yángi-Hisár is an insignificant hamlet called Kará Chanák,^296a in front of which flows another stream called Shahnáz, which waters several [other] places. The valley of the Shahnáz lies in the western range, and the [high] road from Káshghar to Badakhshán runs through this valley. On the road from Kará Chanák to Kilpin Rabát, is a resting place [manzil] for those coming and going [on the road]; the distance between Kilpin Rabát and Kará Chanák is five statute farsákhs. Further on is another halting place—a monastery [langar]—which is called Kush Gumbaz, an excellent stage [manzil] watered by the Shahnáz. It has both cultivated grounds and gardens [bághát] which all form a part of the foundation [vakf] of this “langar.” Travellers enjoy the advantages which the “langar” offers. The next stage is a village called Kizil. The water there is brackish, and nobody stops there who is not obliged to. It is considered the halfway stage between Yángi-Hisár and Yárkand. It is about ten farsákhs from Kizil to Kuk Rabát, and from Kuk Rabát to the edge of the district of Yárkand, which is called Rabátchi, is by measurement seven statute farsákhs.^296b Between Rabátchi and Kará Chanák there is but little inhabited country, except for the stages that have been mentioned.

Yárkand was formerly a very important city. The old town was dug out by Mirzá Abá Bakr; it was among the excavations [kázikha] which we have spoken about, and much treasure was found [in it]. It is not known whether the old town was called Yárkand, or whether it had another name. In the days of my ancestors, Yárkand was a companion city to Yángi-Hisár. Mirzá Abá Bakr made Yárkand his capital. He introduced streams [into the town] and laid out gardens; and it is generally reported that these numbered 12,000, most of which were in the city and its environs. But I cannot imagine that this figure is correct. Mirzá Abá Bakr built a citadel which, in most places, is thirty statute gaz in height. The inside of the citadel is roughly about a hundred chub, and in it has been built a very high fort [ark]. The citadel has six gateways, which are devised for great strength. The gates themselves are placed about a hundred gaz within [the walls] and on either side are two towers near together, so that should any one wish to enter either of the gates, he must [first] pass between these two towers. If an enemy attack the interior, he is assailed with arrows and stones from front and rear, as well as from right and left. This system is to be met with in very few forts. In the fort [ark] of this citadel, magnificent buildings have been constructed; but to describe them would be tedious. In the suburbs are about ten gardens, in which are erected lofty edifices, containing about a hundred rooms each. All these rooms are fitted with shelves and recesses in the wall [ták and tákcha bandi], they have ceilings of plasterwork, and dados of glazed tiles [káshi] and frescoes. Along the public roads are avenues of white poplar [safidár], so that one may walk for a statutory [farsákh] and a half on every side of the city, under the shade of these trees. Streams run by most of the avenues.

The water of Yárkand is the best in the world. Every praise which doctors have bestowed upon any water is true of this.^297a It comes down from the mountains of Tibet (a month's journey distant), which are covered with snow and ice; it flows swiftly over a stony and sandy soil from south to north, and when it reaches Sárigh-Kul, which forms the extremity of the hilly country of Káshghar, it rushes on, with like rapidity, from rock to rock, leaping and tossing, for seven days [journey] in an easterly direction, until it arrives at the level ground. Here it continues its rapid course over a stony bed for two days more, and when it reaches the bed [majari] of the river of Yárkand, in which there are few stones, the current in some degree abates its speed. A curious fact concerning this stream is, that in the early part of the spring it becomes so small that one might almost cross it, in some places, by stepping from stone to stone. In the season of Leo, [Asad] it swells so much that it becomes, in places, nearly a statutory mile [mil]^297b in breadth, [while its depth is then nowhere less than four gaz], and for a distance of one karuh^297c it is no less than ten gaz in depth. Jade [Yashb]^298a is found in this stream. Most of the country and districts of Yárkand are irrigated by it. At a distance of about seven farsákhs, flows another stream called Tiz-Ab,^298b which waters the rest of the country. For about three days' journey, at a medium pace, from Yárkand [in the direction of Khotan] are well populated towns and villages; the farthest of these is called Láhuk.^298c From this place to Khotan is ten days' slow marching, during which time, excepting at the halting places, one meets with no habitations [ábádáni].

In Khotan there are two rivers, called Kará Kásh and Urung Kásh,^298d in both of which jade is met with, and it is found nowhere else in the world. The waters of these two rivers are preferred [by some] to that of Yárkand, but personally, I could never find the superiority in them. Khotan is amongst the most famous towns in the world, but at the present time its jade is the only thing that remains worth writing about. One curious circumstance concerning Khotan, is that magpies^298e are never seen there; or if, at any time, one happens to appear, it is taken as a bad omen, and the people band together and drive it away.

The Imám Alá-ud-Din Muhammad of Khotan is mentioned in all histories, but no one in Khotan knows which is his tomb, nor even recalls his name. There are many other tombs there, about which nothing is known. According to tradition (the truth of which is contradicted by books on history) there lie buried there, among others, many martyrs, such as Imám Zabiha [or Zabija], Jafar Tayyár, and Imám Jafar Sádik, and several others of the Companions [of the Prophet]. But the falsehood of these traditions is evident. It is possible that some of the followers of these companions [tabi'in] bearing their names, came here and suffered martyrdom, for before the conversion of Káshghar to Islám, some of the followers of the companions came to Káshghar and conducted a holy war [ghazát] there [and at Khotan]. But the strange thing there is that the martyrs, whom they have deposited in the tombs, are sometimes exposed to view, from the sand being blown away by the wind, and no change is noticeable in them; they are recognisable, and their wounds—nay more, the very blood which has issued from the wounds, all dried up, is still visible. Every one who makes the circuit [tawáf]^299a of these graves, witnesses these things.

The tombs of Yárkand, however, belong to no one who is mentioned in histories or other books. But the people of Yárkand believe that there lie [buried there] the Seven Muhammadáns. Their story, as related by the mujávir,^299b is not worth recording here, but Mauláná Khwája Ahmad, who was a disciple of Házrat Ishán, and a good and industrious old man (of whom, God willing, I shall speak in the First Part), has told me that the Seven Muhammadáns were grandees [utád]; but I do not remember having read of them in any history. Another tomb is that of Davá Khán Pádisháh; but concerning him I could learn nothing from the mujávir. Suddenly Házrat Shaháb-ud-Din Khwája Khávand Mahmud passed in front of the tomb, and turning to me said: “This man possesses a wonderfully strong power of attraction [jazaba], and I never pass by here without being strongly drawn towards [his tomb].” The edifice is a lofty one and is covered outside with plaster, upon which are paintings and inscriptions. In spite of having examined them carefully, my efforts did not enable me to read them, for most of them were in Kufic character, but not in the Kufic which is employed nowadays. A few are in Suls^299c writing, but it is not inscribed in such a manner as to be easily read. Near this, is a dome, upon the archway of which is some Turki writing which is mostly destroyed. It is there written: “In the year 656 …,” but the rest is obliterated and cannot be read. This date corresponds very nearly with the date of Davá Khán, better known as Davá Sahan,^299d and I am convinced that this is his tomb. I hold the proof to be conclusive for several reasons. Firstly, at that date there was no other Davá Khán reigning; and this name of Davá Khán does not indicate, in the least, that he was a Shaikh or an Imám; nor does the fact of such a magnificent tomb having been raised over him. Again the father of Davá Khán, Barák Khán, became a Musulmán in Bokhárá, received the title of Ghay-yás-ud-Din, and was succeeded on the throne by his son Davá Khán.^299e From this it is quite evident that Davá Khán was a Musulmán. He is very much lauded in histories, and it is not surprising that God should have raised him to such high rank, considering his “Islám,” and his noble qualities. After his death, any man who believed this to be his tomb, did it reverence, and as time went on [its identity] became an established fact; but God alone knows the truth.

If, as is indeed the case, this is the tomb of the famous Davá Khán, his story is told in histories. In the Prolegomena to the Zafar-Náma, Sharaf-ud-Din Ali Yazdi says: “Davá Khán was the son of Barák Khán, son of Kará Isu, son of Bámnagái, son of Chaghatái, son of Chingiz Khán. He was a powerful and worthy monarch. [Couplet…] Mamálikiz Nuyán, son of Amir Áihal, son of Nisun, was of the race of Karáchár Nuyán Barlás. According to the ancient charter [Ahd-Náma] Davá Khán was made king, and the duties and privileges of his forefathers devolved upon him. He ruled for thirty years, and through the excellent management of Altigiz Nuyán, the Chaghatái Ulus attained great prosperity. [Couplet…] Finally having drawn a few breaths he perished.” Thus far from the Zafar-Náma.

Within the citadel of Yárkand and near to the fort [ark] is a tomb called Abjáji Atá, in which is the bone of a man's thigh, in two pieces. I have always noticed this with great wonder. I once pointed it out to Khidmat Mauláná Sháh Sayyid Ashik, one of the most profoundly learned and pious Ulama in Mávará-un-Nahr, who expressed great astonishment, and said: “Let us take the measurement.” He ordered to be brought the corresponding thigh-bone of a man of the present time; he broke off clods of earth of the weight of that bone and tied them up in handkerchiefs, till they were exactly the weight of the bone which was in two pieces. He afterwards counted the clods and found there were sixty. Then the Mauláná said: “The owner of this bone must have been sixty times the size of men of our time.” This is indeed a most wonderful thing!

As for the tombs of Káshghar, the first is that of Sátuk Bughrá Khán, of the race of Afrásiáb, and ancestor of Yusuf Kadr Khán and Sultán Ilak Mázi. He was the first Turk to become a Musul-mán, and he is related to have said: “Sátuk was the first of the Turks to become a Musulmán.”^300a I have heard from darvishes that to visit his tomb is a source of great spiritual advantage. There are many other tombs, excellent accounts of which are to be found in books. Among them are those of Husain Fasl Khwája, Kutb-i-Alam, Shaikh Habib, Fakih ibn Bakr and others. The strangest is the enclosure [hazira] of Husain Fasl Khwája, which they call the “Enclosure of the Muftis,” for a hole has been made in his grave opposite to where his face is. No change has taken place: his beard is [still] perfectly straight, and he is recognisable. I have heard the Ulama of Káshghar say that whenever they had a difficult question to decide, they would write a copy of it and place it in the tomb; on the morrow, when they came, they found the answer written down. And this has been tried and tested. (The responsibility be upon their shoulders.)

All the people of Khotan and Káshghar are divided up into four classes. One is called Tumán, which means peasantry: they are dependent upon the Khán, and pay their taxes to him yearly. Another class is called Kuchin, which means soldiery, who are all dependent upon my relations.^301a A third is called Imák [or Aimak], all of whom receive a fixed revenue [mukátáa] of grain, cloth and the like. These people are also dependent upon my relations. The fourth class are the controllers of legal jurisdiction, and the custodians of religious houses and pious foundations; most of these are of my family. They need not, however, be specified in this place.

There are in that country one or two things quite peculiar to it. Firstly, the Jade-stone, which is found in the rivers of Yárkand and Khotan, and of which not a trace is to be found in any other part of the world.^301b Secondly, the wild camel, which if taken in such a way that it receives no injury, can be placed in a line [of camels], and will follow exactly like a domestic camel. This animal is found in the deserts to the south and east of Khotan.^301c Thirdly, in the hills of that country are wild oxen [kutás] of extreme size and nobility; they are the most ferocious of savage beasts When one of them attacks a human being, its butting with the horns, its kick, and its lick are all equally fatal. When on my journey from Tibet to Badakhsnán (which journey I will speak of presently) we were a party of twenty-one persons, and on the road a kutás was killed. It was only with the utmost trouble and difficulty that four men were able to extract the beast's stomach. One man could not lift one of its shoulder blades. After the twenty-one persons had each carried away as much as he was able for food, two-thirds were still left.^302a

Again, most of the fruits of that country are very plentiful. Among others the pears are especially good, and I never saw their equal anywhere else; they are, in fact, quite incomparable. Its roses and rose-water are also excellent, and almost as good as those of Herat. Moreover, its fruits have an advantage over the fruits of other countries, in that they are less unwholesome. The cold in winter is very severe, and the heat in summer is moderate; but the climate is very healthy. The fruits, which generally are injurious when taken at breakfast or after any food, are there, on account of the excellence of the climate, followed by no evil consequences and do no harm. During the autumn [tirmáh] it is not the custom to sell fruit in the provinces of Káshghar and Khotan, nor is it usual to hinder any one from plucking it. Nay more, it is planted along the roadsides, so that any one who wishes to do so, may take of it.

But [Káshghar] has also many defects. For example, although the climate is very healthy, there are continual storms of dust and sand, and violent winds charged with black dust. Although Hindustán is notorious for this phenomenon [sifat], yet in Káshghar it is still more prevalent.^303a The cultivation of the ground is very laborious and yields but little profit. In Káshghar it is impossible to support an army upon the produce of the country. Compared with the Dasht-i-Kipchák, the Kálmák country and Moghulistán, it has the semblance of a town, but with regard to productiveness and its capacity to support an army, it cannot be compared to those steppes. The inhabitants of towns who go there regard Káshghar as a wild country [rustá], while the people of the steppes consider it a refined city. It is a sort of Purgatory between the Paradise of Towns and the Hell of Deserts. “Ask those from Hell of Purgatory, and they will call it Paradise.”^303b In a word, it is free from the discord of men and the trampling of hoofs, and it is a safe retreat for the contented and the rich. Great blessings accrue to the pious, now, from the blessed saints who lived there in time past. From two pious persons, out of many I have seen, I have heard that when people migrate from that country to some other, they cannot find the same peace of mind, and they remember Káshghar [with regret]. This is the highest praise.

I HAD brought the Khán's history down to the point where he, having left the province of Farghána, set out for Káshghar by way of Moghulistán. As soon as Mirzá Abá Bakr heard of this, he built the citadel of Káshghar in seven days, and placed in it one thousand horse and foot, with provisions for several years, giving his own son Yusfán^304a command over them. Then, having settled whatever business he had there as best he could, he started for Yángi-Hisár, which he also supplied with provisions, arms, and siege implements, and finally went on to Yárkand.

In the meanwhile the Khán reached Atu Bum Báshi,^304b which is one of the frontiers of Moghulistán on the side of Káshghar. Leaving his family and baggage there, to follow slowly after, he marched forward with an unencumbered army. On the first night he encamped at a place called Mirzá Turki; on the second day he halted at Tushku, arriving at Artuj on the third day, and there he performed the circuit [tawáf] of the shrine of Shaikh Habib, an eminent Shaikh. The miracle is recorded of him that in building the monastery, one of the beams [chub] was found too short, and that he pulled it, and extended it [to the required length]. This beam [the Khán] saw, and having repeated verses from the Korán and uttered prayers, he begged that he might profit by the spirit of the Shaikh.

On the following day, when the troops of the east put to rout the army of the west, and in one moment seized the rays of the lights of the world [when the sun rose, etc… Two couplets], they set out from Artuj and came to Uch Barkhán, a village near which the river Yutun Báshi [or Tuyun B.], which flows down from the valley of Kálik Kiyá [or Kabá], must be crossed by travellers. There is some rising ground above it, from the top of which Káshghar, which is exactly three statute [farsákhs] distant, is visible. On this eminence Mirzá Abá Bakr constructed a wall with battlements, reaching from the highest point of the hill down to the ravine which overhangs the river, and there he placed a gate. Implicit orders were issued that the commanders [taváji] should take up their stand in that narrow passage [tangi] and count the army. The troops passed through the defile [tangi] regiment by regiment, and as they passed, the taváji counted them and the scribes [bakhshi] wrote down the numbers. Besides those who stayed behind with the women and children and the baggage, and those who were strong enough to guard the roads, there were inscribed four thousand seven hundred and odd.

Though the number is small, it was composed entirely of famous generals [sarvar], mighty Amirs, wise councillors and brave warriors, who were ripe in experience and well tried in adversity. From the date of the devastation of Táshkand in 908, corresponding to the year of the Hog [of the Moghul cycle], to the present date 920, corresponding [again] to the year of the Hog— that is for twelve years—they had been persecuted by evil fortune, and had been continually engaged in warfare and contests and disputes. Of the four [great] tribes, three—namely the Uzbeg, the Chaghatái, and the Moghuls—had always been at variance, [Couplet …] as has been explained above. During those twelve years, these people had been subject to many vicissitudes and changes of fortune, and had endured innumerable reverses and trials, so that each one of them had gained great experience, and was acquainted with all the details of the art of war, such as marches and countermarches and forced marches. Nor was this knowledge peculiar to the Amirs—nay, rather, in every tribe of the Moghuls many men were to be found in whose judgment and advice every one placed reliance.

The following is a short account of some of those who passed in review that day, as well as I can call them to memory. First of all the family of Dughlát, of whom the leader—the most noble and the eldest—was my uncle, Sayyid Muhammad Mirzá. He was at that time about forty-one years of age. He was the prop and stay and overseer of the whole of that army. His wisdom and foresight were well known, and he was famed for perception and penetration. His story, and all that he did, has been already related. He was conspicuous among his contemporaries, and without an equal among the tribesmen. According to the reckoning then drawn up, he had one hundred and eighty men in his following. Next [in standing] was Kará Kulák Mirzá, who has been mentioned above, in connection with the Khán's adventures in Moghulistán. During those events, this Kará Kulák Mirzá held, at one time, the dignity of Amir, and at another, fell into the most abject poverty, until at last, leaving the Khán, he went to Andiján and there managed to live with the Uzbeg, in some way or another, exchanging the bitterness of poverty for the sweets of commerce. At the time the Khán captured Andiján, he again entered his service. In a word, this Kará Kulák Mirzá was renowned both for his courage and sound judgment, and great reliance was placed in him. In the enumeration [of the army], one hundred followers were entered in his name. [Another was] his brother, Sháh Nazar Mirzá, who had precedence over his elder brother in all matters. His retainers were entered as sixty in number. Another was Mirzá Ali Taghái; the wiles this man could devise after a moment's reflection, could not have been invented by a cunning Delilah after years of deep thought. The hump-backed old woman [who personifies] deception used to come to learn wiles and tricks from him, and to serve him in order to learn how to stir up sedition. This will be explained, in the account of the end of the Khán's days. Ninety men were entered in the list under his name. Another was his brother, Kutluk Mirák Mirzá, of whom everyone expected great achievements. Seventy persons came under his name. Another was Bahrika Mirzá, who was of the military caste [ahl-i-kushun], and he had forty followers.

Another was the compiler of these pages and the chronicler of this history, your humble servant. The dawn of childhood had not yet changed to the morning of youth, nor was my intelligence yet fully developed. I was but fifteen years of age. Although the Khán had honoured me with the title of Kurkán, yet on account of my youth, and immaturity, both physical and mental, I was not able to participate fully in that dignity. I however carried out as much as was possible. The retainers and followers of my father, as many as had remained behind, supported and aided me nobly in every way, so that in spite of the general scarcity of attendants upon the Moghuls, one hundred and twenty persons were entered in my name.

There were many nobles [mirzádas] of the Dughlát family, who were entered as single individuals, since by reason of their poverty they had no retinue. All those who were Amirs, and had a following and attendants, were mentioned [in the lists].

In this way, I propose to speak of all the families of the Moghul Amirs.

Another family [tabaka] was that of the Dukhtui, whose chief was Amir Dáim Ali. At that time his brothers, Ahmad Ali and Mahmud Kuli, had not yet come. This Amir Dáim Ali was one of the least worthy of the great Amirs. He will be frequently mentioned hereafter in this book. There was a serious dispute between him and [the family of] Barlás as to precedence, which was at that time still undecided. But Amir Dáim Ali took precedence whenever he could, till on the first occasion of the meeting with Mansur Khán, which shall be spoken of. The question was referred to Amir Jabár Birdi, who was a Dughlát, and of whom I have spoken above, and he decided that the Dukhtui should have precedence. After that the right of Amir Dáim Ali over the Barlás was established.

I do not recollect precisely, but I think there were more than two hundred persons recorded in the list of this family.

Another family was the Barlás, whose leader was Ali Mirák Mirzá, the maternal uncle of my paternal uncle. He had both sons and brothers. One of his sons, named Muhammad, will be mentioned later.

There were many of the Moghul Amirs and notables who were very aged, older indeed than any one else at that time in the Moghul Ulus; upon all matters such as the Tura and the Tuzuk they were consulted, and reliance was placed in their discretion and judgment in all important consultations and councils. Of these old men was Ali Mirák Mirzá; among others were Káká Beg, Kará Básh Mirzá, Sayyid Ali Ághá, Alláh Kuli Kukildásh, and Abdul Aziz Mirzá. Among this group of aged men too, was Ali Mirák Mirzá himself. Like the rest of the old men, he was much enfeebled by age, both physically and mentally, but his courage was still firm. In spite of his having both brothers and sons, he conducted all his own affairs, civil as well as military. In the list, the number of his retainers is nearly as great as those of Mir Dáim Ali.

Another [of them] was Háji Mirzá, who was renowned for his valour. He had more than one hundred in his train.

Another family was that of Bárki,^307a of whom the first and eldest was Mir Káká. But his extreme old age prevented him from taking part any longer in the hardships of warfare, so he entrusted his affairs to his son Mir Kambar. Many conspicuous and able men of the Bárki family accompanied the Khán from Kunduz to Andiján, and numbers of them fell in the battles that took place in Andiján. When no more of these were left, the management of the affairs [of the family] devolved upon Mir Kambar. His brothers Maksud, Háfiz, and Tuluk, were in immediate attendance upon the Khán. The following of Mir Kambar was larger than that of Háji Mirzá; I cannot, however, recall the exact number.

Another family was that of the Urdubegi; their leader was Kará Básh Mirzá, who has been mentioned in the list of old men. His sons and brothers were men of note, such as Gadái Mirzá, Sabur Mirzá, Muhammad Háji Mirzá, and Muhammad Váli Mirzá.

Another family was that of Itárji. Their chief was Bish Ka Mirzá, who had some capable sons and also some brothers. Their retinue numbered about one hundred men.

Another family was that of Kunji, whose chief Amir at that time was Mir Jánáka. Mir Sharun, Kul Nazar Mirzá, Mir Mazid, and Mir Jaka had not yet arrived. His retinue exceeded that of Bish Ka Mirzá in numbers.

Another family was the Jarás, at the head of whom was Munka Beg, a man distinguished among his equals for his bravery. His suite numbered more than one hundred men. He had a brother named Bábá Sárik Mirzá, who was a man of a similar nature to the above-mentioned Kará Kulák Mirzá and Mirzá Ali Taghái. All that is said of them applies equally to him. His following was not less than that of Munka Beg. He had a brother named Shahbáz Mirzá, who, in the conduct of affairs, was not inferior to his brother.

Another family was the Begjik. The chief among them was Mir Ayub, whose history has been related in connection with Bábar Pádisháh and Ubaid Ullah Khán. He is one of the most distinguished of all the famous Moghul Amirs. During those twelve years of disturbances, wherever he was, he took the lead. Indeed, he was a man admirably qualified in every respect to bear the dignity of Amir. Nearly two hundred men were entered in his name. His brother Muhammad Beg was an extremely calm and polite man, of noble birth and breeding. His mother was a Sayyida of Tirmiz.

[Of the same family] was Sultán Ali Mirzá, whom I have mentioned above, in speaking of the Khán. Also Yádgár Mirzá, who, soon after this event, left the Khán's service, made the Holy Pilgrimage, and then rejoined the Khán, by whom he was highly honoured. After this he again made the Pilgrimage, and he is at the present time a recluse, having dealings with no man and disturbed by none. [Of these too] was Nazar Mirzá. Each of them had a following of one hundred men or less. Another was Mirzá Muhammad, who had exercised the authority of Amir among the Begjik and the Tumán of Mir Ayub, before the arrival of this latter. But when Mir Ayub came, being the elder brother, all the duties of Amir were passed over to him; he [Mirzá Muhammad] submitted to Mir Ayub, and in the administration of business was associated with him. His followers were better equipped than those of Amir Ayub. Another was Beg Muhammad, the same young man whose excellent qualities were alluded to in the account of the Khán's doings in Kábul. Among all the young men he had not his equal in courage. He had one hundred well armed retainers.

There were violent disputes between the families of Jarás and Begjik on the question of priority. On this account, the elder Amirs assembled and held an inquiry. It was at length ascertained that, in the time of each Khán, priority and inferiority had been decided by the favour [ináyat] of that Khán. Therefore the Khán now issued the following mandate [yárligh]: “I will not at present determine your precedence. You must decide it among yourselves. You must take it by turns, year by year, and whichever family shows the greatest valour, that one will take precedence.” They carried out the order, but the dispute exists to the present day, and has found no settlement.

All the above-mentioned men were Amirs and commanders of regiments and detachments. There was another set of men, who, although not Mirs or sons of Amirs, had yet each his own tribe and following. They had been at the head of some of the Moghul tribes during those twelve eventful years, and having directed their affairs, had thereby gained so much experience that every one placed confidence in their advice and opinions. Among them was Khwája Ali Bahádur, of whose valuable services to the Khán in his early days in Moghulistán, I have spoken above. Another was Beg Kuli, whose name was mentioned in the history of Sháhi Beg Khán. At the time when the Emperor was defeated at Kul Malik by Ubaid Ullah Khán, and retired from Samarkand, this Beg Kuli, placing himself at the head of 3000 men, came and joined the Khán. He was a trustworthy man. Another was Ishák Bahádur, renowned for his valour and his sound judgment. Others were, Marik Bahádur, Putáji Bahádur, Kará-Uchunghál,^309a Shabán, Sultákár^309b Tufta Kuli, and Uzun Sakál Tufta Kuli. [Each of these was head of a tribe] and all were trustworthy and experienced men. Another was Tumán Bahádur, leader [sar-khail] of the Káluchi, and one of the most notable generals of his time. He will be mentioned in the account of the Khán's last days. Another was Malik Ali, commander [sirdar] of the tribe of Kárluk and a brave soldier. Another, Kulka, head [sar khail] of the Makrit. Another, Omar Shaikh, chief [kalántar] of the Shulkárchi.

All these were chiefs of tribes, and each had a retinue. There was yet another class of men, who had no following, but were quite alone; yet they had distinguished themselves above the rest, by their courage in many battles and engagements, and thus they had acquired the name of “heroes” [bahádur]. Some of their deeds of warlike valour will be mentioned below. A list of the names of a few of them follows: Midaka [Bahádur], Abdul Váhid [Bahádur], Khudái Kuli [Bahádur], Shakával, Yusuf Bakával, Muhammad Ali Tumán, Kishkui Divána, Kará Dána Kuli, Shaikh Nazar Yasával, Barka Yasával, Hakk Nazar Divána, Ali Kurchi, Sháh Mirák Kalandar, Bábá Kulághán, Tangri Bardi, Bái Tisha, Hakk Nazar Kughuchi, Pák [or Jabák] Mir Akhur, Pálicha Mir Akhur, Bar Mazid Mankish, Sukár Káluchi, Sukár Ukhsi, Bábarin Azuk Mirzá, and others. They were the talk of their time, and all of them heroes like Rustam, Zál, and Afrásiáb the brazen-bodied. I have mentioned a few of them, but it would be tedious to mention them all; moreover many of them have no place in this history—no connection with the main events.

THE army having been mustered, it began to descend from the rising ground of Uch Barkhán…^310a The Amirs of Mirzá Abá Bakr's troops saw the masses of soldiers from afar, and estimated their numbers at 50,000. When a nervous person counts the enemy, he mistakes a hundred for a hundred thousand. On nearing the Tomb of the Khwája, they drew their bridles to the right and turned towards a village called Sarman, two farsákhs from Káshghar, where there is a ford over the Timán. Crossing the Timán they passed on to a place called Sughunluk, where Mirzá Abá Bakr had laid out beautiful gardens and meadows; in these they encamped. Some of the Amirs, taking their troops, approached the citadel of Káshghar, thinking that the enemy would wish to defend the fortifications and decline to come out. They approached quite close to the citadel and were examining it and admiring how well it had been fortified, when the enemy, sallying forth, drew up in battle order and stood ready. [Couplet]…

On arrival of the Amirs the battle began. Some courageous youths, to whom the day of battle was as the nuptial night, and the rumbling of the drums of war was as the murmuring of harps… [three couplets] now threw themselves upon the enemy's ranks, wielding their sabres on every side. All around was disorder and confusion: victory and defeat fell sometimes to one and sometimes to the other. The enemy having turned their faces towards Báz-Shirak,^310b all the infantry and cavalry poured out of the citadel to their assistance and joined in the fray. The battle lasted till past midday…^310c Then some of the Amirs sent messengers to the Khán, representing that the enemy had left their strong position and had descended into the plain. If the Khán wished to meet them on equal terms, now was the opportunity. Let him come before the sun should set, for then the enemy would retire to the citadel, and would not come out again. When the Khán received this message, … [three couplets] he arranged his army in the manner above described, and went forward, but as the ground was rough and broken, the troops were not able to preserve their formation. The Amirs of the left wing were ordered to go in advance, while the centre was to follow them. The Amirs of the right wing had many of them advanced in the early morning. When the Khán drew near he said: “Let the force advance slowly, while I ride forward and see how matters are going.” The Khán arrived just as the left wing had come up. The men who had been fighting [all the morning], seeing the Khán arrive, received fresh courage and were overjoyed; for they had been anxiously expecting him. They now made a combined charge … [three couplets] and before the centre had time to come up, had overwhelmed the enemy.

Khwája Sáki Ali was chief minister [mushrif-i-diván], and was sprung from the Uighurs of Khorásán.^311a He had always distinguished himself by his extreme valour, but through his impetuosity the thread of his life was cut in two. He had been one of the first to arrive on the scene of action, and was standing with his men in the front of the army, when he saw that the Khán had come. Before all the rest, he threw himself upon the centre of the enemy, and allowed the reins of discretion to be guided by the palm of recklessness. The infantry archers had formed an ambush in a large stream called the Sarman. Khwája Sáki Ali, without hesitating, made his horse leap this stream, wishing to use his sabre against the cavalry that were standing on the opposite bank. But one of those foot bowmen who were standing in ambush in the water, shot an arrow into Khwája Sáki Ali's eye, so that it came out at the back of his head, and he immediately fell [lifeless] from his horse.

In the meanwhile the enemy had been put to rout, having been dislodged from their ground by the violence of the onslaught of the Khán's warriors. Before the whole army could come up, the advanced body pushed on, striking and killing, up to the gates [of Káshghar]. In a short space of time the King of Kings of the universe, and rightful Lord of the realm, utterly destroyed the numerous host together with its weapons and material of war. They were only just able to creep, crushed and routed, into the citadel and to close the gates. That night the Khán pitched his royal camp in the immediate vicinity [of the town], and on the morrow, at break of day, again drew up his troops and approached the citadel. But as there was nobody within, except a few soldiers lightly armed, he retired to Tukuzák, where he encamped. On the following day, having crossed the river Kará Tázghun, his army went and pitched their camp at Tirák, one of the districts depending on Yángi-Hisár. Here they were joined by the families [kuch] who were following after them; these they left here, and marched on to the gates of the citadel of Yángi-Hisár. The men in the citadel did not come out, but there was some infantry stationed below the citadel, and upon these Midaka Bahádur (who has been spoken of already, and will be mentioned again) made a bold attack. As their position was a strong one, he retired, and they, in turn, having stood their ground for awhile, also retreated. The Khán remained several days in that neighbourhood, changing his position from place to place, in the expectation that Mirzá Abá Bakr, having collected an army, would be coming. He passed nearly two months in those parts, without hearing any news of Abá Bakr Mirzá. In the meantime Mirzá Ali Taghái and Haji Mirzá, together with a few men from every division, conducted forays round about the hills of Sárigh Kul, where they became possessed of much booty and countless sheep.

At this time Muhammad Kirghiz came to wait on the Khán and was favourably received. He begged to be allowed to go to Yárkand and bring back definite news [of Mirzá Abá Bakr]. [The Khán approving of the plan allowed him to depart], sending with him several persons of consequence. They plundered Arslán Bágh, which is two farsákhs from Yárkand, and found much booty, which they brought with them, together with the news that [Mirzá Abá Bakr] was doing his utmost to collect an army, and was giving out horses and arms to the peasantry and villagers. But he had no force on which he could rely. Upon hearing this the Khán set out against Yárkand.

WHEN Muhammad Kirghiz brought the news of Mirzá Abá Bakr, all the councillors were for marching against Yárkand. If Mirzá Abá Bakr were to come forth and give them battle, well and good; if not, there was, at any rate, an abundance of corn and other necessaries round about Yárkand. They must lay siege to the citadel of Yárkand. If it should fall, Káshghar and Yángi-Hisár would naturally fall also. With such projects they moved on towards Yárkand, until they came to Sukát, a village at ten farsákhs distance from Yángi-Hisár.

At this place some of those who had come in flight to Mir Ayub, with neither family nor dependents, formed a plot [daghdagha] to desert and go off towards Karátigin and Hisár. But when their scheme was discovered, most of them were unable to get away: a certain number, however, went. While the talk about this continued, Midaka Bahádur represented that Kitta Beg had had a similar intention. This Kitta Beg is the same person who was mentioned in the beginning of this book. He was the brother of Mir Ahmad Kásim Kuhbur and when Mir Ahmad Kásim left Táshkand, he was in Sairám, which place he kept for himself for a whole year. When the Emperor retired to Kábul, and no hope was left him of relief from any quarter, he [Kitta Beg] sent a message to Kásim Khán offering to give up Sairám to him, and thus brought Kásim Khán against Táshkand. This anecdote has been already told. On leaving the service of Kásim Khán, Kitta Beg went over to the Khán in Andiján. All the Amirs approved the words of Midaka Bahádur, who said: “His flight is quite proper, because he is Bábar Pádisháh's subject, and he wished to go away. But he must not be put into chains until the matter has been more thoroughly inquired into.” When the Amirs had confirmed this plan, the Khán said: “I will myself stand security for Kitta Beg, and if he gets away, I will be responsible.” The Khán then sent for Kitta Beg and said to him: “They have been telling such and such stories about you. Now you are a brave man. It is not fitting that you should desert us. I have made myself security for you to the Amirs. If on this occasion you show me attachment, your desires shall be satisfied; but if you disgrace me in the sight of the Amirs by running away, that course is also open to you.” To this Kitta Beg replied: “I am not such a coward as to desert just at the time of battle.” He said nothing more, but remained, in silence, in close attendance upon the Khán.

In consequence of these dissensions, the proposed march on Yárkand was abandoned, and at dawn on the following day they set out in haste for Yángi-Hisár … [three couplets], where they arrived at midday. There was one circumstance which was most propitious for them. When the army that was occupying Káshghar heard that the Khán had marched against Yárkand, they sent a message to the Amirs in Yángi-Hisár, to the effect that the light force in occupation were uneasy on many accounts. If a few of the Káshghari were sent back to them, they would be of material aid to the garrison. The Amirs in Yángi-Hisár thinking this reasonable, sent back a large number of Káshghari to Káshghar. These men, issuing from the citadel, crossed the river of Yángi-Hisár and were proceeding [homewards], when suddenly the Moghuls^314a fell upon them, and the whole body became a prey to the Khán's army.

At this juncture, the Khán himself came up. The Yángi-Hisár men, who were all on foot, had come into the midst of ravines and streams, and rough, broken ground, but they made a brave stand. When the Khán came upon the scene, Kitta Beg pushed forward and struck Midaka Bahádur, saying: “On that day you told me that I was going to run away. Let it be seen to-day, who it is that will run away.” Now Midaka was one of the most eminent warriors, and the bravest of the brave. He replied: “I have been longing for this day for years;” and therewith he pressed forward. The two charged forward upon [the enemy] [Verses] … The road down which they rode was very narrow; on one side of it flowed the river of Yángi-Hisár, in which the water was surging in waves, while on the other side was a deep ravine. The road was wide enough, perhaps, for three horsemen to ride abreast. In the middle of this had been placed a gate, through which infantry could pass, and in which many soldiers in armour were posted, while outside it, others were engaged in discharging their arrows. When these two horsemen charged, the soldiers put their backs against the gate. The horse of Kitta Beg came up in advance of Midaka's, and however much the latter might use his whip, he was not able to pass in front. When Kitta Beg came near, the archers began to aim their arrows at his horse, so that it fell on the spot, and Kitta Beg was dismounted. As the passage was narrow, the horse fell into the water, while Kitta Beg advanced on foot to attack the soldiers. They, however, placed themselves so that his sword could not reach them, and Midaka, coming close after, drew his horse up and said: “Peace be on you. Let this be a sufficient display of valour; let us now return.” But Kitta Beg replied: “I will not retire until you do.” Now as the arrows were pouring down, like rain, from the gate, and from the top of the ravine, Midaka saw that if they advanced, both would perish, he therefore withdrew first, while Kitta Beg followed very slowly behind him. The Khán praised Kitta Beg loudly, while the people blamed Midaka, who replied: “It was not a position in which we could do the enemy any injury. Kitta Beg, in his excitement, behaved like a madman; if I, too, had made a fool of myself, the only result would have been the death of us both. I yielded to his passion.” This excuse was approved by some, but not by others.

To be brief, every one took up his quarters [muljâr] in the suburbs of Yángi-Hisár. A few days later, Mir Ayub was carried off by a form of dropsy. Towards the end of his illness the Khán went to visit him, and he said to the Khán: “I have not observed fidelity and loyalty to Bábar Pádisháh [but have broken my oath], owing to the instigation of those hogs and bears,” alluding to the Moghul generals who had incited him to join in the revolt at Hisár, which has been mentioned. “That [broken] oath is now lacerating my bowels, and I am being killed by remorse. As for those hogs and bears, may God restrain His wrath from them, for causing me to break solemn vows.” [Quatrain] … After the death of Mir Ayub, his rank descended to his brother Muhammad Beg.

During those times there were daily engagements, and every man was eager to bring into evidence the precious stones of bravery which he had stored up in the treasure-house of his heart. Among those who distinguished themselves, were Midaka, Abdul Váhid, Khuddái Kuli Shakávul, and Muhammad Ali Tumán. Other individuals displayed their gallantry on one, or two, or three occasions, but as for these four men, there were few battles in which they did not do something remarkable, and scarcely a day passed without a battle taking place. When it was ascertained that Mirzá Abá Bakr did not intend leaving Yárkand, all were agreed that Yángi-Hisár ought to be carried by storm, and this having been determined upon, they sent off Ali Bahádur (who has been alluded to above in the list of eminent Moghuls) to Kizil, which is on the border of the desert of Yárkand, that he might reconnoitre, and watch the movements of Mirzá Abá Bakr. If, during the siege, he should make a sally, the Khwája was to return immediately with the news, so that [the Khán] might be prepared to meet him.

IN the beginning of Rajab of the year 920, the Khán disposed his troops round the citadel of Yángi-Hisár, and pitched his camp so close to it, that if gaz-long arrows had been aimed at his tent from the top of the citadel, they might have reached the edge of the cliff under which he had camped. The intrenchments [murchal] were arranged on the following plan. On the north side there was no need for intrenchments, because the fort was situated on the top of a cliff, which ended in a sheer precipice. Mines would there take no effect, while to ascend the cliff was impossible. For these reasons trenches were useless on the north side. The first tower on the west, was taken in hand by the Khán himself and the warriors of the centre, who were always in attendance upon him; these belonged to no particular regiment, but their names have been mentioned above. Another tower on the same side—west of the Khán's—was entrusted to me, and to my right were Mirzá Ali Taghái, Kutluk Mirak Mirzá, and Babrika Mirzá, who, together, were laying a mine. Beyond them, Bábá Sárik Mirzá and Shahbáz Mirzá, and a body of Báhrin, had charge of another. Farther on again, were Mirzá Muhammad Beg and Beg Muhammad Beg, who had chosen [a site for] a third. Beyond them was a tower, the gate of which looked due south. To this tower were appointed Jánka Mirzá and Bishka Mirzá; while on the south side Munka Beg had charge of another mine. At his side was yet another, under the supervision of Mir Muhammad, who had lately succeeded to the position held by Mir Ayub. Near him was Mir Kambar, then came Ali Mirák Barlás, next Mir Dáim, next Kará Kulák Mirzá, then my uncle; and beyond him was the eastern gate of the citadel, which side, like the northern, overlooks a precipice. For five days and nights all our energies were devoted to digging and advancing galleries.

The first mine that was ready to be tried was the Khán's. It went off at midnight, and that tower which had raised itself to the skies, now fell with a crash, level with the ground; but part of the original wall was left standing. On that day every one exerted himself to the utmost, and the mines were so far advanced, as to be ready to blow up the walls with very little further labour. [The strongest of all the towers was the one] given to Jánka Mirzá and Bishka Mirzá to undermine, but they made cracks along the wall for a distance of about sixty gaz.

While the siege was thus proceeding, one of Khwája Ali Bahá-dur's men brought in a certain Alika and a few generals. This Alika was the son of the commander of the citadel, who was called Amin Dárugha, and who was one of Mirzá Abá Bakr's most distinguished Amirs. To him had been committed the entire charge of the citadel of Yángi-Hisár. It came about in this way. Mirzá Abá Bakr had collected a force in Yárkand and had amassed a quantity of arms, hoping to come and relieve Yángi-Hisár. He then detached a body of picked men and sent them off to reconnoitre at Kizil, with orders to bring back any news they might learn, so that he might form his plans accordingly. This body was under the command of Pir Ali Beg, the brother of Vali Beg, who has been alluded to already. On reaching Kizil, they found that a party of Moghuls were reconnoitring in the same district. Having ascertained his exact position, they fell upon Khwája Ali Bahádur unexpectedly, the same night. The horsemen were sleeping soundly, when the din of giving and taking of blows, war cries, and trumpets startled them from their slumbers. [Verses] … It was a pitch dark night—neither moon nor stars were visible— nor could friend be distinguished from enemy. [Two couplets] … All who awoke were mad with confusion at the alarm, and were unable to collect their thoughts sufficiently to realise what was passing, so all fled in dismay, excepting Khwája Ali Bahádur, who did not lose his presence of mind, but stood his ground firmly, and called out to his followers by name. All who heard his voice rallied to his side, till at length a good number were gathered round him, and they too began to call their war-cry loudly. Some of those who had been stupefied by the sudden awakening, now recovered their senses, and on listening attentively, heard the voices calling the war-cry. On this their courage was renewed, and they went and rejoined Khwája Ali Bahádur. They discharged their arrows in the dark, and fought on till the brightness of dawn overcame the shadows of night, when by that light the combatants began to see [the real state of things]. The enemy became aware of their small numbers, while our men saw their own superiority.

Pir Ali Beg had but a hundred men with him, while Khwája Ali Bahádur had three hundred. Since in the darkness they had become confused and disordered, Pir Ali Beg saw that flight would be a cowardly death, while to hold his ground was to die nobly. Near to that spot was a garden; within this he tried to defend himself. Ere the sun had reached the meridian, the sun of the lives of those men had set. Out of a hundred, only two escaped to bear the news that the rest of their party had perished, The above-mentioned Alika had been wounded in the fight. To prevent his giving information, they did not send him back to his friends, but despatched him to the Khán with the heads of the slain hung round his neck—the throats running with blood. He reached the Khán at midday, and the heads of those generals were sent into the citadel as a gift. Alika was then asked for news. He replied: “Mirzá Abá Bakr has made all the necessary preparations for an expedition. All the people know that he has got horses, and arms of every kind, such as coats of mail, horse-armour, and so forth; that nothing is wanting—nay, rather there is a superabundance of all such things. But he has no generals—no renowned Amirs or brave warriors, whose strength and judgment are the very foundations of true sovereignty. For all of these, he has himself put to death. And now, in order to complete his army, he is obliged to choose men from among the peasantry, artizans and market-people, making one a Vazir, another an Amir: the first a Mir and the second a councillor. The rustic who has spent his life with his hand on the plough, and has never done any work but ploughing, how can he begin to wield a sword or hold the reins of government? Though he may try ever so hard, I am sure he cannot succeed; such foolish ideas can come to nothing.” And he laid much stress upon the improbability of Mirzá Abá Bakr advancing. [Our] people, however, did not fully trust his words, but suspected that this man, drowning in the whirlpool of misfortune, was employing flattery as a means of reaching the shore of salvation.

About evening prayer time, one of Khwája Ali Bahádur's followers brought in another man who had come to him in flight. This fugitive reported that Mirzá Abá Bakr, having mustered an army, had advanced two farsákhs out of Yárkand, when he deserted him. Many were loth to believe this also, and imagined it to be a trick on the part of Mirza Abá Bakr, by which he hoped to retard the operations against the citadel of Yángi-Hisár; so they tortured this informant till he died, but he persisted in his story to the end, and then they believed it.

All the Amirs were for raising the siege that same night, and for marching out to meet and engage Mirzá Abá Bakr, before he should be joined by the armies of Káshghar and Yángi-Hisár. But the Khán said: “I intend to remain at the foot of this cliff until Mirzá Abá Bakr comes, and to aim my arrows at the citadel and at Mirzá Abá Bakr, until I am killed on this spot. Those who do not [wish to] follow my example, let them do what they like.” When the Khán had said this, all knelt down before him, saying: “May your exalted majesty's road be [strewed] with our lives as a thousand sacrifices! Who is there among us who holds his own wretched existence more dear than the precious life of the Khán, or thinks of his own personal safety first, in this undertaking?” Then all again set to work, with contented hearts, at the mines.

At daybreak of the sixth day of the siege, the Khán rode round all the trenches and infused his own enthusiasm into the hearts of his Amirs and soldiers: praising those who had exerted themselves, and ordering to be whipped any who had been remiss. In this manner did he pass round the citadel. As he approached the trench of my uncle, some one called out from the top of the citadel. They listened. He was saying: “Let one of the followers of Sayyid Muhammad Mirzá come forward; I have something to tell him.” Thereupon a man was sent forward, who [however] asked whether Kukildásh Mirzá Ali Sayyid Bahádur was there, [and if so] had they not better send him [to parley]? [So they sent him.] After a short time Ali Sayyid returned reporting that Amin Dárugha had spoken as follows: “Sayyid Muhammad Mirzá is Mirzá Abá Bakr's brother. For generations past I and my sons have been their servants. In our loyalty we have, during three months, been in peril of our lives, in spite of never having enjoyed during forty years, a moment's security from Mirzá Abá Bakr. Those whom he wished to kill he killed, and those who were left alive were all subjected to violent punishments, such as castration—that is to say, depriving of virility—cutting off the hands and feet, putting out eyes, and the like. All were sure to be exposed to some calamity. In spite of all this, I felt it still my duty to remain loyal. Now it has come to a question of life and death; the knife has reached the bone. If Sayyid Muhammad Mirzá will forget our enmity, forgive our sins, and spare our lives and our goods, we will deliver the citadel into his hands and become his vassals.” When the Khán heard this message he was overjoyed, and sent Ali Sayyid back, saying that their offer was accepted.

ONE of the worst of the wicked practices of Mirzá Abá Bakr was that, having laid down the most strenuous and exacting regulations and observances, he would not be satisfied with anything less than the death of any person who should, in the least degree, infringe them. Having put that person to death for a trifling fault, he would become apprehensive of his tribe and relations, and would persuade himself that they could never be pacified. He would therefore set about their extermination, sparing neither suckling babes nor women with child; but punishing them all, from mature men to the child at the breast, so that after he had been satisfied a thousand times with their death, they died with thankfulness (as has been related before).

In short, towards the end of his life, Mirzá Abá Bakr entrusted his army and all military affairs to Mir Vali, placing the administration of the State and the people in the hands of Sháh Dána Kukildásh. These two men fulfilled their duties with the utmost possible diligence.

As has been briefly stated above, Mir Vali succeeded so thoroughly in driving the Moghuls and Kirghiz out of Aksu and Moghulistán, that for a long time none of them dared come within two or three months' journey of Káshghar.^319a All the Moghuls crept into Chálish and Turfán, but the Kirghiz were allowed to dwell on this side of Issigh Kul. In the same manner, Mir Vali took entire possession of certain places in Farghána, such as Uzkand (which is the most important [town] of that province), Ush, Mádu, and Jágirák; all of which places lie above Andiján. He also brought under his power much of Karátigin and Badakhshán, and the districts of Balur and Tibet as far as Kashmir. All this was the achievement of Mir Vali.

Before the battle of Tutluk, my uncle endeavoured to bring about a meeting with Mir Vali, in order that they might discuss the terms of a peace. [When Mir Vali heard this] he thought my uncle must be reduced to straits and in despair; thus he might be able to seize him by deception, and send him to Mirzá Abá Bakr as a present. He felt that he could not possibly perform a more worthy or important service. These considerations induced him to assent to the interview. They met at a place agreed on, between two lines of men appointed respectively by either side, and they began to confer together in a manner suitable to the occasion. During the conference, my uncle said to the Amirs who had accompanied Mir Vali: “I have a few words to say to Mir Vali; leave us.” Thereupon the Amirs rose up [and withdrew]; Mir Vali alone remained. The few words were merely a repetition of some civilities relating to Mirzá Abá Bakr, which he had already uttered in the presence of the Amirs. They then separated, and each man returned to his own army. After this, occurred the event [battle] at Tutluk, which weighed down the scale of Mir Vali in the balance of the regulations of Mirzá Abá Bakr. Mirzá Abá Bakr asked the generals who had been present at the interview what had been said; they told him all that had passed, and added: “This is what was said in our presence, but afterwards Sayyid Muhammad Mirzá spoke to Mir Vali in private, and we do not know what he said then.” When, after the battle at Tutluk, Mir Vali came to Mirzá Abá Bakr's presence, the latter asked what Sayyid Muhammad Mirzá had said to him in private, and Mir Vali told him what my uncle had said. Then Mirzá Abá Bakr replied: “But that is exactly what he said before all the others; one does not demand a private interview merely to repeat such things as these.” He said nothing further, but from that moment he began to suspect Mir Vali, thinking: “What Sayyid Muhammad really said to him in private he will not tell me; perhaps he is in league with him, and is planning my ruin.” So he seized Mir Vali and sent him to the Kázik, together with his brothers. Some of them he castrated. And thus did he annihilate all these people for the simple question: “why did Sayyid Muhammad demand a private interview?” and subjected them all to hard punishments and bitter suffering. [Verses] …

This is an instance of Mirzá Abá Bakr's cruelty. Another example is his treatment of Shah Dána Kukildásh, to whom were entrusted the affairs of the State and the people, and the control of the treasury. He, too, had exerted himself to the utmost in the performance of his duties. For example, the flocks of sheep he had collected at the conquest of Káshghar were beyond reckoning, and when by reason of my extreme youth I could not attend to business, and on this account did not attempt to estimate the profits of the booty [then taken], I only know that more than 15,000 sheep fell to my lot. No one on that occasion got a smaller share than myself, of Mirzá Abá Bakr's property. The soldiers who had accompanied the Khán, and the men from the armies of the Mirzá, all received an equally large share; and from this, one can form an estimate of the whole! In the same manner, his cattle and flocks, grain and treasure (which have been mentioned, and will be mentioned again), were so numerous and abundant, that the intellect is incapable of conceiving the quantity that fell to each man. All this had been amassed under the superintendence of Sháh Dána Kukildásh.

After the fall of Mir Vali, the Mirzá's suspicions extended to Sháh Dána Kukildásh, [thinking] that he might say to himself: “Mir Vali was a greater man than I am, yet the Mirzá seized him: perhaps he will seize me too.” These thoughts had never entered Sháh Dána's mind, nor that of anybody else; he, however, seized Sháh Dána upon suspicion, saying [by way of pretext] that Sháh Dána had reduced the value of his property; and there, in front of the seat of judgment [divan-khána], he ordered people to pluck out the whole of his beard and to castrate him; while, as soon as his wounds were healed, he sent him to work [in the Kázik.]

In the places of these two [officers] he set up mean creatures [arázil] from among the Amirs; and, though he found himself better off than formerly as regards worldly substance, the affairs of the army ceased to flourish; for such another commander as Mir Vali was not readily to be met with. In the meanwhile, the news of the Khán's march from Andiján to Káshghar received confirmation. [The Mirzá] immediately proceeded to Káshghar, and there, in seven days, constructed a citadel, as has been explained above. By the time it was known that the Khán had reached At-Báshi, which is seven days' journey from Káshghar, the fort of Yángi-Hisár had likewise been filled with stores, arms, and all that was fitting and necessary. It was placed in the charge of a few officers in whom he reposed confidence—namely, Amin Darugha, Ján Hasan of the tribe of Kárluk, Kuli Itárji, Ajmaga Akhta and Jáni Beg Akhta, Mir Vali, Sháh Dána, and Muhammad Beg (whom he had lately castrated), together with some of their followers. Although he had just taken many of them from the works,^322a he gave them each horses and arms, saying: “If you prove to me your devotion and loyalty, I will again take you into favour.”

At this juncture, it was reported that the Khán had reached Tushgu. [Mirzá Abá Bakr] thereupon set out for Yárkand, giving his final injunctions [to the officers] in Yángi-Hisár. He promised the people that he would go and muster an army in Yárkand, and come to their relief. Upon his arrival at Yárkand he at once set about collecting forces. He filled the country with horses and arms. [There was a certain] Ustád Abdál Sháikh, who was a perfect master [ustád], and unrivalled in all kinds of work with hammer and anvil. After the fall of Mir Vali and Sháh Dána Kukildásh, Mirzá Abá Bakr had set up this Shaikh Abdál in the place of Sháh Dána, and I have heard [Shaikh Abdál] say that there were in the Mirzá's armoury 60,000 coats of mail [juba] and 12,000 sets of horse armour [kichim], besides other arms and accoutrements, the number of which may be judged by these figures. But the army itself was composed of peasants, artizans, gardeners, and cultivators of the soil. Upon those he judged the most capable among them, he conferred the rank of Mirzá. A hundred and twenty of them he made his own escort, and the rest all received horses and arms. [Three couplets.]

(1) It takes many a year for the natural stone to become, by the sun's power, a ruby in Badakhshán, or an amethyst in Yemen.

(2) It is many months before a seed of cotton is ready to be made into a robe for a huri, or a shroud for a corpse.

(3) It is many days before a handful of wool from the back of a sheep, becomes a zealot's shirt or a donkey's halter.

…^322b However this may be, Mirzá Abá Bakr having mustered his army, marched with it to a point two farsákhs distant from Yárkand; thence he detached, and sent in advance, some picked men, who fell in with Khwája Ali Bahádur at Kizil, as has been told above. [Thus we see] that the man who was brought before the Khán at Yángi-Hisár during the siege operations, and who had been tortured to death, spoke the truth. He had deserted at the time when Mirzá Abá Bakr, having led his army two farsákhs out of Yárkand, sent forward the advance guard. The man had reported exactly what he had witnessed.

When Mirzá Abá Bakr had pitched his camp at this spot, he wished to pass his forces in review, but his efforts to do so were in vain. For these Amirs, who had been used all their lives to handling the yoke [yugh], when they now raised the standard [tugh]^323a and formed in line, thought they were thrashing corn, and got in each other's way; nor could they distinguish between right and left and centre. When their spirited steeds reared and shied, they held on anyhow to the withers, and when, in fear of their lives, they pulled at the bridle, and the horse would rear, the rider would lose his control, and slip back on the horse's haunches. If the animal started off, they would throw up the bridle and fall, like a drop of sweat, to the ground. Their bows got broken, and their arrows fell out [of the quivers]. When Mirzá Abá Bakr saw this kind of horsemanship—such soldiering and such archery—he said: “With such a troop as this, it would be dangerous to try and rob a kitchen-garden” [páliz]; and he returned, dispirited and anxious, to his tent, seriously meditating flight.

Following this, came news that the citadel of Yángi-Hisár had fallen; and when the people of Káshghar heard of that, they too abandoned their citadel and dispersed. On this intelligence reaching the Mirzá, he felt that further delay was useless [and that the hour for flight had come] [Couplet] … Therefore, having packed up the richest of his clothes and his valuables, having divorced his kingdom, and handed Yárkand over to his eldest son, Jahángir Mirzá, he fled. [Verses] …

Jahángir Mirzá, who had passed all his life in seclusion, was of a timorous disposition. Finding himself suddenly placed upon the throne of a disordered State, he did what he was able in the way of government, and then, at the end of five days (hearing that his father was at a distance, and that the enemy were near at hand), set out in flight. He collected all the treasure he could carry off, and issued a general order that every one might take what he wished. Those who were afraid of the Moghuls, accompanied him in his flight. The rest fell upon whatever treasure remained, plundering the granaries and burning, or destroying, property of all kinds.

Four days after the departure of Mirzá Jahángir, Khwája Ali Bahádur arrived with two or three thousand men, and two days later the Khán followed, all of which shall be related presently. Mirzá Jahángir retired to Sánju, which is the frontier on the highroad to Tibet, while Mirzá Abá Bakr went to Khotan. But, seeing no possibility of making a stand in the citadel there, he marched on to Karánghutágh, whither he was followed, in hot pursuit, by a party of Moghuls. As the roads were difficult, it would have been hard—nay, impossible, for him to carry off all the property he had with him; he therefore collected it all together, and set it on fire. I have heard from those who had charge of it, that there were nine hundred mule-loads of embroidered and brocaded garments. Many of them were embroidered in gold in the European, Ottoman [Rumi], and Chinese fashions; while some of the robes were studded with jewels and all kinds of precious stones. All these were consumed in the fire; while his gold and silver vases, cups, and various kinds of ornaments set with jewels, and his saddle-bags filled with gold-dust, he threw from the bridge into the River Ak-Tásh, which flows through the middle of [the valley of] Karánghutágh. He killed his riding horses [tupchák] and mules; then, taking what it was possible to carry on such a road, set out for Tibet.

On reaching Tibet [Ladak], he found that all the forts which he had garrisoned had been abandoned by his men, who had fled in different directions; so that his forts and treasures had again fallen into the hands of the infidels of Tibet. Hence he could do nothing in that country. He could discern no shore of safety from amid the furious waves of hardship and trial, which tossed around him. Mirzá Abá Bakr had now for a space of forty-eight years^324a so filled the book [of life] with black records, that there was no space left to write anything more. He had devoted all his energies to accumulating earthly goods, and the pen is unable to describe his worldly magnificence. But, although he used ostentatiously to speak of the next world, and to express hopes of attaining it, yet he never performed an action that did not, as it were, open to him a door of hell or shut upon him a gate of paradise. Between himself and paradise was a long road…^324b

In short, in the fulness of time, he reaped the fruits of his past misdeeds; so that, finding it impossible to remain in Tibet, he preferred death to life. Leaving his family and children there, he departed, saying: “I am going [to give myself up to the Khán]. It is evident that I shall be killed with the poison of oppression. If this happens, bury my body in the sepulchre of my ancestors. Although I have not discharged the duties of kinship towards Sayyid Muhammad Mirzá and Mirza Haidar, I beg you to show them kindness. And if, contrary to my expectations, they should not kill me, I have still a plan [which may be executed].” With such intentions he set out, towards the middle of winter, to visit the Khán. On his way, he met with a party of his own servants, whom my uncle had sent into Tibet to fetch him, threatening them with this and that [penalty] if they did not succeed. When Mirzá Abá Bakr met them, he asked their news; they replied: “We have been sent to find you:” and then they strung together a few lies to try and reassure him. But he did not believe them, and said: “All I want you to do is to take me, living, before the Khán and Sayyid Muhammad; after that, you can do what you please.” They launched out into professions of readiness to comply with his wish. Then, as it was late, having said his night prayers, he went to sleep: and the saying, “Sleep is the brother of Death,” was verified in his case. When he retired to rest, the men of the party consulted together, resolved to cut off his head and carry it to the Khán, [as this would appear an important service] and cause the Khán to place confidence in them.

Bad as he was, these people [should not have] betrayed their charge, and used perfidy in place of good faith. However, they cut off his head while he slept and then returned, as shall be narrated shortly. Thus were all his subjects—prince and pauper, high and low—delivered from his wickedness. [Verses, etc.] …

HAVING taken the citadel of Yangi-Hisár, in the manner above described, the Khán turned his attention to [the reduction of] Káshghar. On the third day he learnt that the garrison of Kásh-ghar had abandoned their citadel and, taking their horses, had fled to whatever place each thought safest for himself. The Khán's noble mind being thus, in the most satisfactory manner, set at rest with regard to Káshghar, he placed the foot of success in the stirrup of victory, and drew his reins towards Yárkand, confident of success and triumph. He sent Khwája Ali Bahádur in advance [Verses] … The first stage from Yángi-Hisár is Sátlik, and here the Khán pitched his camp. [On the same day] news came that Mirzá Abá Bakr, having given over Yárkand to the charge of his son Jahángir Mirzá, had retired to Khotan. [On hearing this news] the Khán hastened still more, and on reaching Kizil heard that Jahángir Mirzá also had fled, and that Khwája Ali Bahádur had entered Yárkand. At the end of Rajab of the year 920, the Khán made his triumphant entry into the town of Yárkand, and with the splendour of his glittering sword, he allayed the dust of tyranny and enmity [etc.] …

Before [his army] entered the town, he sent on Amir Dáim Ali and Beg Muhammad to occupy Khotan; he also despatched in pursuit of Mirzá Abá Bakr, seven brave generals—namely, Kará Kulák Mirzá, Háji Mirzá, Sultán Ali Mirzá, Nazar Mirzá, Mir Kambar, Mirzá Ali Taghái and Beg Kuli Makrit. These seven generals started in pursuit with the greatest eagerness. This affair having been attended to, the Khán issued a general order that every one might go and plunder wherever he liked. And every man in the army who cared for pillage and booty, immediately hastened out [to take advantage of the permission]. Only a few of the Amirs, who held plundering to be derogatory, remained in attendance on the Khán. Having settled this matter also, the victorious Khán mounted the throne of the town. He then went up to the citadel [ark], within which were many lofty buildings, containing, each of them, rooms and upper-apartments and battlements, so numerous as to astound the beholder. And these buildings were filled with cloths, chintzes, carpets, porcelain, cuirasses, horse-trappings, saddles, bows and other things useful to man. All these things had been seized by Mirzá Abá Bakr, or procured by whatever means he chose to employ, and had been hidden away by him, so that no one might know of their existence. Of such as remained over, Mirzá Jahángir had destroyed and wasted as much as he was able; and on his departure had sanctioned a general pillage, which, until the arrival of Khwája Ali Bahádur, was carried on by the whole population—each taking what he could. When Khwája Ali Bahádur entered the town, he, likewise, devoted himself to pillage. Seven days later the Khán arrived, and he too gave his men permission to plunder right and left. Everything in the way of money, as well as the valuable cloths and stuffs, had been carried off, but the houses were still full [of other things]. Two months after the flight of Mirzá Abá Bakr, there were still great quantities of cuirasses and the like, lying about the houses and passages, that no one had cared to carry away. [Five couplets]…

Thus, all that Mirzá Abá Bakr had, in the course of forty-eight years, amassed with infinite toil, and guarded with savage miserliness, he was finally obliged, with a thousand heart-rendings, to abandon; while the Khán, with one stroke of his pen, gave it all over to a general sack, and during two months the dust thereof rose to the sky. [Verses]…

At the end of two months, every man returned safely—laden with plunder from different directions—and presented the Khán with tribute [pishkash], according to the quantity of booty he had taken. But the Khán, in order to win the hearts of his people, divided the property up into shares [suyurghal] in accordance with the old Moghul custom, and distributed it among his soldiers. I remember distinctly that some of the Amirs who had come from Karánghutágh, presented, besides arms [álát] and vases, and Andiján man of gold-dust. Now an Andiján man is sixty-four chárik and a chárik is 400 mithkál.^327a From this the extent of the rest of the booty may be conceived.

THOSE nine Amirs whom the Khán had sent off to settle affairs in Khotan and to pursue Mirzá Abá Bakr, started off with great eagerness and exerted themselves to the utmost of their powers. On reaching Khotan, the inhabitants came out to receive them, and delivered into their hands all their treasuries and granaries, their flocks and herds, and everything connected with these. Mir Dáim Ali and Mir Beg Muhammad, according to [the Khán's] orders, stayed in Khotan, and occupied themselves with the administration of the State and the government of the people. The other seven Mirs, like the seven-headed devils fighting on the top of the mountains of Káf, swept on to Karánghutágh, but when they arrived there, found that Mirzá Abá Bakr had left the mountains of Karánghutágh, and had gone on to Tibet [Ladak], in which direction it was difficult to follow him.

When they came to the bridge over which Mirzá Abá Bakr had thrown his effects, they found the roads blocked with the carcases of the tupchák horses [three couplets]… which he had killed, and of the mules, on which had been loaded the saddle-bags [khachir] full of money and stuffs. I do not quite recall whether there were 900 mules or 900 strings [kitár]^327b of mules. They next came to the spot where he had burnt his brocades, etc., and saw that these valuables were become an ash-heap from which smoke was still rising. The gold and precious stones with which these clothes had been adorned, were still remaining. These they gathered from among the ashes, and found that the jewels and rubies had not been affected [by the fire]. But the turquoises [firuza] had turned black, and become brittle. No trace of their original colour was left. The rubies [lál] too, were broken into little pieces, and had changed to an ugly colour. The pearls were reduced to ashes, so that they could no longer be distinguished; also the amber—which had lost all its charm.

The Amirs and their men, having gathered what they could from the ashes, again set out upon their road, when they suddenly noticed the boxes of gold-dust shining at the bottom of the river. Indeed the jewelry [hali] and vessels of silver and gold, shone forth the rays of the sun, as it were, from the depths of the stream. They thereupon proceeded to attempt the recovery of these valuables, from the water. The river was rushing over the rocks in such a torrent that no one could, by any device, have entered it. So each man prepared a long pole, at the end of which a hook was attached. To reach the bottom, it was necessary to join several of these poles together. Now when Mirzá Abá Bakr had thrown these treasures into the river, he had ordered his men to cut the leather cases into pieces, so that the gold-dust might be scattered in the water. But since the cutting up of the cases took a long time, and the Mirzá was impatient to go forward, he [finally] ordered them to be thrown in just as they were, and thus they had remained from that time.

When they struck the cases, their hooks broke most of them in pieces, and [the contents] were washed away by the current. Sometimes, however, if a man took great care, it did not break, and was lifted out of the water. They were found to contain a mule's-load each. Such of the vases and vessels as had handles, or something to lay hold of, were hooked up, but nothing was recovered upon which a firm hold with the hooks could not be obtained. They only secured a very small quantity of the gold-dust; about a hundred-thousandth part of the whole. However, they were enriched by what they did secure, and got more than enough to enable them to realise all their desires. At present, as compared with those times, all this wealth and all these Moghuls are as a mere drop in the ocean.

AFTER the victorious Khán had settled all his important affairs in Yárkand, it was discovered that Mirzá Jahángir had not followed his father into Tibet, but that he had settled down in the district of Sánju. The Khán, thereupon, sent my uncle to bring back his nephew, by some means or other. When my uncle reached Sánju, Mirzá Jahángir came out to receive him, offering rich gifts, and said to him: “It is evident to all, that during my father's reign I lived in retirement and in mortal dread of him. During all that time, I did not enjoy a single moment's security or freedom from anxiety. Fear of violence had always made me seek seclusion, and thus the eye of my nature became closed to the splendours of wealth and rank, and I have always been obliged to drink from the cup of dissatisfaction. When the evil foundations of my father's realm began to give way, and his power to crumble from the earthquakes caused by the Khán's forces, he drew me forth from my corner of seclusion, and set me upon the throne of pomp. And I, who during forty-two years, being in fear and trembling for my life, had never gained any experience of the world, how could I suddenly be expected to supervise a whole State? Besides these difficulties, it was my father's constant practice, whenever he stripped one of his children of the garments of life, to lament the unfortunate victim in my presence, saying: ‘He was a full grown youth. I dreaded lest he might treat me as Shiruya treated Khusrau and Abdul Latif Mirzá treated Ulugh Beg Mirza.’^329a Hearing such things as this, I endeavoured to the utmost, for the sake of my personal safety, to appear very inefficient in my behaviour. How shall I, who have thus spent forty-two years in cultivating ineptitude and helplessness, revive, in one moment, the welfare of a State which [my father] himself has ruined? Moreover, I had no information concerning any of my father's affairs. Nor has any one ever experienced so much as an inconvenience, at my hands. Whatever the people have suffered is due to my father. They do not blame me, nor hold me responsible for his sins. Let me now go to the Khán, and spend the rest of my days in his service.” Words of abject humility, such as these, and many more like them, he continued to pour forth; but my uncle comforted him, and conveyed him, together with much treasure and many horses, before the Khán.

Mirzá Jahángir was born of one of the daughters of Isán Bughá Khán, the youngest brother of Yunus Khán, who was the Khán's grandfather. At the time when Mirzá Abá Bakr captured Aksu, the residence of Alácha Khán (which event has been fully described above), the fourth daughter of Alácha Khán fell into his hands. And he took care of her and treated her with great honour. When she was of age, he gave her in marriage to his son Jahángir Mirzá. The latter, arriving now in the Khán's presence, was received with respect, and this fourth daughter of Alácha Khán, whose name was Khadija Sultán Khánim, also joined the Khán, whose full-sister she was. The Khán showed favour to Jahángir Mirzá, in accordance with the verse, “I will not ascribe to thee the sins of others”; and ignoring the cruelties and hideous deeds of his father, entered him among the men of trust around his person, and promised that feasts should be celebrated in honour of Khadija out of regard for her noble birth.

One night towards the end of that winter, Jahángir Mirzá was killed in Yángi-Hisár, together with several of his followers. It was never known who committed this deed. Every one had his own suspicions, but God alone knows the truth. Mirzá Abá Bakr had many children. Several of his grown up sons he had put to death, with the most horrible tortures, for totally inadequate reasons. Of those that survived, the eldest and most honourable was Jahángir Mirzá, whose fate has been related. There were two other sons, named Turángir Mirza and Bustángir Mirza, the children of the daughter of Mirzá Sultán Mahmud, son of Mirzá Sultán Abu Said.

In the spring following the winter in which Jahángir Mirzá had been murdered, a person was sent to Tibet to bring back the family of Mirzá Abá Bakr; his wife, Khánzáda Begum, and her elder son, Turángir Mirza, were thus brought to Káshghar. In conformity with the custom of the Yanga, she was married to my uncle, while Turángir remained in the Khán's service, until he was drowned in the river.

Bustángir Mirza did not accompany his mother and brother. He went from Tibet to Kashmir and thence into Hindustán. (At that time Bábar Pádisháh had not conquered Hindustán.) From Hindustán he retired to Kábul, but although he was [the son of the daughter of the Emperor's uncle], his father's misdeeds made him repulsive to the Emperor, so that he could not stay in Kábul, but fled into Badakhshán, to Mirzá Khán, who was his maternal uncle. Mirzá Khán, however, instead of showing him the affection of an uncle, displayed hostility towards him on account of his father, Mirzá Abá Bakr; so that he was forced to fly from him also, and betake himself to the Uzbeg Shaibán. Suyunjuk Khán received him with the utmost courtesy and honour, saying: “He is a human being, and it is incumbent on us to treat him with kindness.”

He is still about Andiján and Táshkand, where he enjoys high distinction, and is famous among the Uzbeg for his honourable conduct.

AS soon as the Khán had reduced the State to order, he bestowed liberal gifts and rewards upon his followers, especially upon those who had distinguished themselves in battle, by their courage and daring; these have been enumerated above. [Verses] … He poured down favours, more plentiful than drops of rain, upon his soldiers; and by the splendour of his justice, he dispelled the darkness of tyranny which had settled on the inhabitants of the country. [Verses] … The roads which had before been too dangerous to traverse, were now made so safe and tranquil as to become proverbial, that if an old woman were to travel along them, bearing a jar of gold on her head, she would not be molested. At that time there was a popular song which ran: “A solitary person may carry a jar of gold from east to west, for the respect he [the Khán] inspires, causes all corners of the earth to be safe.” But what is yet more remarkable, and more creditable, is that if, for example, a woman should leave a vessel full of gold and proceed on her road, she would, on returning at any time, find it untouched. [Verses] …

Into such a complete state of order did the Khán bring the kingdom, that the doors of pleasure and the gates of security were opened to high and low alike. And now all the people gave themselves up to wine and song and dancing. [Verses and rhetoric] …

The entire population of the country, and the Khán and his courtiers in particular, turned night into day and day into night in draining the wine cups; nor did they care to learn of events that were passing [around them]. [Verse] … “I came intoxicated to thy street and I left mad: I know not how I came nor how I departed.” Revelling became so much the fashion that sobriety was held as a disgrace, and drunkenness as a cardinal virtue. These illicit indulgences [manáhi] lasted from Rajab of the year 920, to the end of the year 928, after which time the Khán was, by the favour of Heaven, defended from exposing himself to further censure, as shall, God willing, be related in its proper place.

IN the middle of this winter, Aiman Khwája Sultán arrived. The explanation is as follows. In the list given of the offspring of Sultán Ahmad Khán, it was noticed that Aiman Khwája Sultán was the full brother of the Khán. After the death of Sultán Ahmad Khán, when Aksu, on account of the hostility of Amir Jabár Birdi, fell under the domination of Mirzá Abá Bakr, all Sultán Ahmad's children, together with the tribe [Ulus],^332a migrated to Turfán and Chálish, and Mansur Khán reigned in his father's stead.

All his brothers were in his service, as was also this Aiman Khwája Sultán, till he attained to adolescence, when, at the instigation of some seditious persons, he laid claim to the throne— an act which resulted in an insurrection [khuruj] and much intrigue. At first Mansur Khán acted generously in counselling him to desist and in forgiving him, but finally, since Aiman Khwája Sultán would not cease to urge his claims, Mansur Khán ordered him to be put to death. On Yáráka Atáka, the Khán's trusted servant, was imposed the duty of carrying out the order; but he took Aiman Khwája Sultán to [his own] house and hid him in an underground [chamber], spreading the report that he had put him to death. Not long after this, came news of the Khán's victory over Mirzá Abá Bakr, and the conquest of Káshghar. [Thereupon] Mansur Khán repented his deed, and showed strong marks of regret and sorrow. Yáráka Atáka represented that learned men had said: “‘It is an easy matter to deprive a man of his life's breath; but life cannot be restored to a dead man.’ I acted in opposition to orders, and have kept him safe.” On hearing this the Khán was overjoyed, and expressed his gratitude to Yáráka Atáka, who brought forth Aiman Khwája Sultán from the house. Aiman Khwája Sultán, on being set at liberty, went to Bábáják Sultán, the full brother of Mansur Khán, who had lately settled in Kusan and Bái.

These places Mirzá Abá Bakr had destroyed, and they had remained for some time in ruins, but Bábáják Sultán restored them. He lives there to the present day. Thence, taking leave, [Aiman Khwája] proceeded to Káshghar, and when the Khán heard he was coming, his joy knew no bounds; a new delight sprang up in his heart. In accordance with his frame of mind, he began to sing: “Har dam az in bágh bari mirasad: Táza tiráz táza tari mirasad.” (At that time I often heard the Khán sing this song.) [Couplet] … The Khán did all that was possible to make the reception of Aiman Khwája Sultán a splendid one, and in his affection, honoured him so far as to go out himself and receive him [istikbál]. He treated him as a brother in his domestic life [buyutát]. All that winter was spent in entertainments and banquets, and with the setting in of spring, princely feasts were celebrated in honour of Aiman Khwája Khán. The Khán selected men [as retainers] for him from among all the Moghul tribes. Sárik Mirzá, a Dughlát and nephew of Mir Jabár Birdi, was appointed to be his Ulusbeg. The greatest of his Amirs of the right wing [báránghár], namely, Munka Beg (who has been mentioned in the battles of Káshghar), Nazar Mirzá, brother to Mir Ayub Begjik, and others, together with a select band chosen from among the various tribes and Ulus of the Moghuls, were sent to Aksu [with Aiman Khwája]. The inhabitants of Aksu also, whom Mirzá Abá Bakr, after conquering the place, had led away to Káshghar, were now permitted—nay, rather urged—to return, all together. Thus, in the beginning of the year 921, Aiman Khwája Sultán repaired to Aksu.

At the time of his conquest, Mirzá Abá Bakr had laid waste Aksu and all its dependencies, and had carried its inhabitants away to Káshghar. He had also placed a lightly armed [jarida] garrison in Uch,^333a which is a strong place. This garrison carried on a little cultivation of the soil. When [the Khán] conquered Káshghar, he immediately sent to Uch to fortify it, in the same way that Mirzá Abá Bakr had done. Aiman Khwája Sultán, setting out at once, proceeded to Uch, and there pitched his camp. Having restored the cultivation of the town and its districts, he went on, during the second year, to Aksu, where he rebuilt the citadel. The rest of Aiman Khwája Sultán's life will be told in a fitting place.

THE Almighty Creator, at the beginning of the world, so ordained that nothing but good should proceed from those beings whom He had endowed with laudable qualities and a praiseworthy character, so that even when treated badly, they should return good for evil. This truth is instanced by what follows.

It was explained at the beginning of this book, that the Khán was in Moghulistán with his brother,^334a that the Kirghiz were subject to them, and that they lived in comparative comfort and security, till Mansur Khán led an expedition against them. The opposing armies met at Chárun Chálák,^334b and a fierce battle ensued, in which these two brothers were ultimately defeated. On this account they were unable to remain longer in Moghulistán, and all other asylums in the world being closed to them, they were obliged to retreat into the province of Farghána. Sultán Khalil Sultán, the Khan's brother, was drowned by the Sultáns of Sháhi Beg Khán in the river of Akhsi, while the Khán himself was thrown into prison, whence he finally escaped to Kábul in the guise of a kalandar. The details of these events have all been given above. It was at the hands of Mansur Khán that the Khán suffered all these calamities. [Verse] … The enmity of brother to brother is worse than that of other foes. But when the Khán had laid the foundations of a lasting State, had collected a countless host and gathered round him the most distinguished warriors [verses] … the surrounding rulers began to be sorely afraid of his might and majesty. More especially [was he feared by] Mansur Khán, who, having fled from Mirzá Abá Bakr, had retired to Turfán and Chálish, and now had neither strength to oppose, nor place of refuge to fly to. The saying: “Alas! they have stopped my road on six sides,” now became applicable to Mansur Khán. Furthermore, Aiman Khwája Sultán had attached himself to the Khán, who recounted to him all he had endured at the hands of Mansur Khán, and opened afresh his old wounds.

All the chiefs of the State, and the nobles, were unanimous in wishing to lead an army against Mansur Khán, and to attack Turfán. They represented that: “When he had the opportunity, Mansur Khán did what has been related; if he is given his own way, he will do such things as cannot be told. It is therefore fitting that we should fall upon him at once, and in such a way that our minds may be set finally at rest with regard to him.” To this the Khán replied: “The duty of the young is obedience; that of adults is favour [ináyat]. If the young neglect their duty, it is incumbent upon their elders to correct them…^335a At this time, the elder brother is in the place of the father. To him reparation can be made for disobedience to the father.” He then sent several ambassadors [to speak as follows]: “What I have suffered from my elder brother (that is to say, Mansur Khán) was all on account of my own shortcomings. Even if this were not the case, the elder brother is the father's successor, and although he has treated his younger brother with the reverse of kindness, how should this younger brother venture (in his position of son) to overstep the prescribed limits? [Verse] … Forgiveness for past offences is now humbly solicited. May they all be swept from the recesses of your blessed memory. I would, moreover, crave for permission to kiss the carpet at your noble feet. From our [meeting] many advantages will result. One of them being that you will wash away, with the water of good-will, the stains of my offences. Another that (thanks be to God) from this victory our friends will derive strength and elation, while our enemies [will foresee] disaster and despair. If we meet in harmony, our troubles will be at an end, and the backs of all evil-wishers will be broken.” Many other advantages were mentioned, which it is needless to repeat. [Verse] …

When Mansur Khán saw all these ambassadors arrive, one after the other, bearing costly gifts, his soul, which had risen to his lips,^335b was refreshed with unbounded joy. After much passing backwards and forwards of envoys, and the discussion of preliminaries, an interview was arranged.

THE context here demands some further details of the life of Mansur Khán. He was the eldest son of Sultán Ahmad Khán, son of Yunus Khán. The experiences of Sultán Ahmad Khan's elder brother, Sultán Mahmud Khán (which have been touched upon in their proper place in this book, and will be mentioned, in detail in the First Part, are briefly as follows.

[Sultán Ahmad Khán] dismissed the old Amirs of Yunus Khán, and set up in their places some mean persons [arázil] whose flattery suited the Khán's nature. To these men he gave up the management of all important affairs of State, and they, with their narrow-minded views and want of judgment, so worked upon the Khán, that he estranged his old friends—that is to say, the Uzbeg Kazák and the kings of the Chaghatái—and made new ones of his old enemies, thinking that they would be his true allies; but these [in the end] ruined him.

Thus Sháhi Beg Khán, after he had, with the assistance of Sultán Mahmud Khán, defeated the Chaghatái and conquered Mávará-un-Nahr, turned against Sultán Mahmud Khán and took Táshkand [from him]. [Verses] … When Sultán Ahmad Khán heard of the helpless condition of Sultán Mahmud Khán, brotherly love began to glow in his heart. Seizing the skirt of fraternal affection with the hand of resolution, he, in the course of the year 907, set out towards Táshkand to the relief of his brother, leaving, in his own place, his eldest son Mansur Khán, with absolute authority and power over the whole of Chálish, Turfán, Bái, Kus, Aksu, and Moghulistán.^336a The events that now followed in Tásh-kand have been already related. When Ahmad Khán returned, defeated and sick, to his capital Aksu, he was met in state by his son Mansur Khán. After entering the city, he became anxious about his illness, and sent Mansur Khán away to Turfán, where the latter remained till his father's death, when he returned to Aksu. But Sultán Mahmud Khán, despising the sovereignty of Aksu, left it and went to Moghulistán. [Verses] …

Mansur Khán continued to dwell in Aksu, and Amir Jabár Birdi in Uch. This Amir Jabár Birdi was a Dughlát, and filled the post of Ulusbegi under Sultán Ahmad Khán, by whom he had been held in the highest honour and esteem. Indeed, he was a wise man and worthy of the rank he held; for he was without an equal as an administrator. [Verses]… In those turbulent days he was of the greatest value. But Mansur Khán, for the reason explained above—namely, that heirs are not always able to estimate the value [of their inheritance]—purposed putting Amir Jabár Birdi to death, saying: “Until I have put him out of the way, I shall never feel safe on the throne.” As a fact, the very reverse of this was true. When Amir Jabár Birdi [became aware of this design], though he lamented and bewailed the matter much, he exerted himself in every possible way to avert the impending danger. He continued to carry on the Khán's business and offered explanations [sukhanán guft]. But it was of no avail: he saw that nothing but his death would satisfy the Khán. He therefore set about planning his own safety, and sent a messenger to invite Mirzá Abá Bakr to come.

Now this had been the Mirzá's intention, independently of the invitation, so he marched at once and appeared, like a flash of lightning, at the head of 30,000 men. Amir Jabár Birdi offered him the best presents he could [command], and himself became the guide [yazak] of the army. He went in advance, while Mirzá Abá Bakr followed after. Mansur Khán, being informed of these movements, took away as many men as he could muster and [started for Turfán], while the rest, together with some of the Amirs, stayed to defend the citadel of Aksu. Mirzá Abá Bakr came up, and took the citadel by storm; then, forming a junction of his troops, with those of Amir Jabár Birdi, he conducted forays against Bái and Kusan. All the inhabitants of those districts were carried off to Aksu, so that the country became entirely depopulated.

Then Amir Jabár Birdi said [to Mirzá Abá Bakr]: “It must be quite evident to you, that I have now gone to too great lengths ever to expect protection at the hands of the Moghul Khákáns. For I have treated them as no one ever treated them before. I have scattered to the winds of perdition their throne, kingdom, and men: their wives and children. My loyalty now prompts me to go again, and utterly devastate Bái, Kusan and Aksu [and to carry off the inhabitants to Káshghar], while Uch must be defended by a light-armed [jarida] force. My household and family shall remain with you. You must give me leave to go to Chálish and the mountains around, and I will drive all the inhabitants into your hands, in order that I may make an end of the Moghul Khákáns, and have no longer any cause to fear them.” Mirzá Abá Bakr highly approved of these plans, and having allowed Amir Jabár Birdi to depart, carried off his family, together with all the Moghul people. Thus did Amir Jabár Birdi make his wives and family a sacrifice for his own life; for, with the exception of two sons, he sent them all—though with many misgivings [ihtimám]—to Kásh-ghar. He displayed so much energy in the whole matter, that he won the entire confidence of Mirzá Abá Bakr, who, leaving his army with him, then returned.

Amir Jabár Birdi drove the inhabitants out of all the towns, districts, open country, and uplands. The owls were left in possession of the cities and villages, while the plains were made over to the antelopes. It would be impossible to give an idea of the numbers of the flocks and herds, and the quantity of treasure that he took in those countries and cities, all of which he carried back to Káshghar. Mirzá Abá Bakr entered Káshghar in great pomp. Mir Jabár Birdi having conducted countless forays with Mirzá Abá Bakr's army, at length left it: he himself going into Moghulistán, while the army returned to Káshghar, driving the flocks before them.

Meanwhile, Mansur Khán repented of the designs he had entertained against Amir Jabár Birdi, and saw that prosperity was impossible without such men as he. So he sent a person after him, with apologies and entreaties to return. Mansur Khán was born of Mir Jabár Birdi's sister. Mir Jabár Birdi knew that Mansur Khán was sorry for what he had done; he therefore made an end of the quarrel [az niza barkhásta], for he saw that if he did not go quickly, the effect of separation would be the entire destruction of Mansur Khán. So having accepted apologies and strengthened matters by concluding a covenant, he set forth [to visit Mansur Khán].

There is a story current at the present time, which is very appropriate, and which I give here. Talkhak died in Tirmiz. Before dying, he expressed a wish that he might be buried at a certain cross-way, that his tomb might be high, and that on it might be inscribed in large letters: “Every one who passes by here and repeats the Fatiha for my soul, may he be cursed; and if he do not repeat it, may his father be cursed!” Those who were present laughed, and asked: “But how can one avoid both these curses?” [The dying man] replied: “There is one means of escape, and that is to keep away from Tirmiz.”^338a This saying applies to the situation of the Moghul Khákáns and Dughlát nobles. For [they reasoned], if they imitated Mir Jabár Birdi [in his behaviour towards Mansur Khán], they would save their own lives, but would be accused of ingratitude and disloyalty; if, on the other hand (following the example of my uncle), they remained faithful, and stood round the tomb of the late Khán, wailing and weeping, their heads would be struck off then and there: though it might be said of them that they were incapable of a cowardly action. The result of remaining in the service [of the Moghul Kháns] will in the end only be to gain the name of cowards or traitors. [Therefore, it may be said, the only way to avoid these two bad names, is not to remain in the service of the Moghul Kháns, nor to go near them.]

As my maternal uncle Mahmud Khán has said [couplet in Turki] …: “No one ever met with fidelity from the world or its people. Oh, happy that man who has nothing to do with the world!”^339a [Verses.] …

But the pearls of these intentions found no place in the shell of the Moghul Khákán's ears…^339b Thanks be to the Most High God that this servant has at length found the means of avoiding them. It were also preferable to abstain from further words on this matter.

To return to the thread of my narrative. Mansur Khán, having given him every possible assurance of safety, took Amir Jabár Birdi back into his service, and after the return [of the Amir], the Khán's affairs began again to improve.

From the year 910, which is the date of [the commencement of] Mansur Khán's disturbed and turbulent reign, to the year 922, the date^339c we have now reached in our history, Mansur Khán lived in Chálish and Turfán. During this period many important events occurred. In those times the brothers [of the Khán's family] quarrelled among themselves, and everybody in the Moghul tribes was rebellious. On this account, Mansur Khán dismissed the Arlát —an ancient order of Amirs—and, bringing the Kirghiz into his power by stratagem, put many of them to death. He once went to war with the Kálmák, and won a signal victory over them.

After these events, his government began to assume an orderly shape, which was due to the wisdom and tact of Mir Jabár Birdi. Towards the end of this period, Bábáják Sultán separated himself from Mansur Khán, and together with his following, proceeded to Kusan. Mansur Khán pursued him, in person, and besieged him. His object, however, was not to destroy Bábáják Sultán, so he sought terms of peace. The answer he received was: “Aiman Khwája Sultán was also [your] brother, and him you killed like a stranger. What reliance can I place in you, that I should make peace?” Now Aiman Khwája Sultán had devised treasonable plots, and on this account Mansur Khán had ordered Yáráka Atáka to put him to death, but [instead of this] Yáráka Atáka had hidden him in an underground place, as has been already related. When Bábáják Sultán mentioned the affair of Aiman Khwája Khán, Yáráka Atáka saw the Khán was much distressed, and represented: “I had the presumption to disobey the order, [and did not put him to death].” Thereupon Mansur Khán fell to commending Yáráka Atáka, and Aiman Khwája Sultán was brought out. After this, Bábáják surrendered, and peace was made. Mansur Khán then returned, while Aiman Khwája Khán went to Káshghar, as has been mentioned already. Bábáják Sultán stayed on in Kusan, where he is to this day.

After this occurrence, negotiations for a peace ensued between the Khán and Mansur Khán. Mansur Khán came forth from Turfán, Kusan, and Bái, and sent Mir Jabár Birdi in advance. The meeting, which shall be described below, took place in the plains of Arbát.^340a

IN the month of Jumáda II. 921, new fruit was added to the tree of the Khánate…^340b As the Khán was the grandson of Sháh Begum, who was descended from Zulkarnain, he was called Iskandar. Learned men have found chronograms for this child's birth. Among them was Mauláná Muhammad Shirázi, who was one of the great Ulama, being not only versed in all the sciences, but also a skilled physician. For a space of thirty years he rendered praiseworthy services to the Moghul Khákáns, and was appointed Sadr-i-Sudur. Some details of his life will be given below. He discovered the chronogram: “Sháh-i-Iskandar far” [a king equal in power to Iskandar]. Khwája Nur-ud-Din Abdul Vahid Tuhuri Kázi, who shall also be mentioned, found the date in: “Nakhl-i-Iram” [the tree of Iram]. Many discovered: “Lashkará shikan” [army breaker]. There were many more, but I have given as many as I can remember.

At that time, the Khán's health was somewhat affected by his excessive wine-drinking. He, therefore, went to Moghulistán hoping to restore his health by a change of air. On his return, he said to me: “To you, who are like a son to me, I have given my dear sister, who is a pearl in the shell of the Khánate. My hope is that if a child should be born to you, I may be a father to him as well as you. Thus, a child with two loving fathers; two fathers with one happy child. But since you have, up to this time, no offspring, you must look upon this son of mine [Iskandar] as your child, so that what I hoped of you, you may realise in me. If eventually you should have a son, he will be a brother to this child; if you should have no children, you will have no need of another son.” Favours and kind words such as these, did he express to me and his sister; we accepted them with gratitude, and feasts were instituted and presents given. The life of Iskandar shall be presently related.

AIMAN KHWÁJA SULTÁN, having been sent to Aksu, departed thither, and in the spring set about rebuilding the town, while ambassadors went backward and forward, between Mansur Khán and the Khán, to arrange a friendly settlement. In the summer the Khán's health became much impaired by excesses in wine-drinking, as was stated above, and he was finally seized with ague [tap larza]. Mauláná Shirázi, who was a talented man and a skilled physician, and who had spent all his life in attendance on the Kháns, pronounced a change of air to be needful. So the Khán betook himself to a place in Moghulistán, not far from Káshghar. But as he did not yet trust the people of Káshghar, he left me in Yárkand, while he himself went on his way. I did all I could to keep order in the country. At the end of the autumn the Khán returned from Moghulistán, in good health; the pure air of those plains having cured him of the malady which indulgence in wine had produced in him. He alighted in Yárkand.

IN different parts of this history, the life of Hazrat Mauláná has been told, down to the point where he went to Akhsi and its dependencies. Wherever he stayed the people received the blessing of his converse. In that province he gained many followers and devotees, all of whom were honoured by witnessing some miracle or wonderful act. [Verses] …

When the Khán left Akhsi, Hazrat Mauláná remained there. When Suyunjuk Khán came to that town, he waited on Hazrat Mauláná and entreated him to honour Táshkand with a visit. He went to Táshkand, but a short time afterwards died … [Verses and rhetoric] … His intimates and followers discovered the date of his death in “Nakd-i-Khwája Ubaid Ullah” [=922].^342a He was between sixty and seventy years of age, was versed in all sciences, and wrote several interesting and profitable works.

His tracts are text-books for the pious. Among his compositions is the Salsalat ul Arifin, written in excellent style. It is divided into three parts. The first of these treats of the manners of Shaikhs and the conditions of discipleship. The second part contains the life of Hazrat Ishán, together with the truths and sayings he uttered in various assemblies, in the language of the country; also some of his miracles and wonders. The third part comprises the sayings and miracles of various pious men. The tongue is incapable of adequately praising this book. There are about fifty parts.

Besides this work, he composed many pamphlets [rasáil]. Among them are answers to certain questions which, in the course of different meetings [majlis], I had the presumption to put to him. These, together with some rules and maxims, he put into book form, but never found an occasion of giving it to me. After his death, however, his son and successor, Mauláná Kutb-ud-Din Ahmad, sent it to me, and I have copied the whole of it, as it stood, into this work. I know well that, with my lack of literary capacity, this rough copy, written by the pen of carelessness, with the help of ignorance, will have but small merit in the eyes of critics; but I trust that the embodiment of the pamphlet will bring a blessing on my work, and that my shortcomings may be overlooked. I look to the Pardoner of all Sins to forgive me my faults and errors in this Epitome, in consideration of the truths contained in [the Hazrat's] pamphlet. [Verses] …^342b

THE winter was passed in Yárkand, in feasting and merry making. As Turfán was a two months' journey from Káshghar, the negotiations of the ambassadors, the settlement of the place of meeting and other preliminaries lasted a whole year. In the month of Moharram 922, the Khán started for Aksu. [Verses] … He entered Káshghar in great pomp and splendour. [On the road] I had a fall from my horse and dislocated my right elbow; it was a bad accident, and I was confined for some days in Káshghar before getting well. As soon as the pain began to abate, the Khán set out again, while I remained a few days longer in Káshghar. On my arm becoming cured, I followed the Khán and came up with him at Jái Tuba, whence we proceeded stage by stage to Uch. [Verses] …

At that time Aiman Khwája Sultán was living in Uch, for Aksu was not yet habitable. On the Khán's approach, he came out to meet him with gifts [verses] … and invited him to come and bless his house by alighting there. He entertained the Khán with regal banquets. [Verses] … [Departing again] the Khán passed Aksu and pitched his royal camp at a place called Jám, while Mansur Khán, coming from the opposite direction, reached Arbát, which is seven farsákhs from Jám. Mir Jabár Birdi now came and waited on the Khán, and finally settled [under what conditions the two Kháns were to meet]. The two armies were to advance and stand opposite each other in battle array; hostages were then to be exchanged; the two Kháns were to come forward, each attended by thirty men selected from his own army, and were to meet between the two lines [of troops]. As soon as these plans had been agreed upon, I was sent to Mansur Khán as a hostage. Aziz Birdi was appointed to select the men who were to accompany Mansur Khán. I was received with much affection and friendship by Mansur Khán, who poured down honours upon my head. [Verses] …

When the King of the East placed his foot upon the steps of the throne of the firmament, and brought the whole world under the sway of his brightness, repulsing the powers of night, Mansur Khán set his noble foot in the stirrup, and having drawn up his troops, rode forth. On reaching the trysting-place, he sent for Bábáják Sultán and Sháh Shaikh Muhammad, who were his full brothers, and enjoined them to exercise caution and judgment. Aziz Birdi Aghá, standing at the head of the passage [between the lines], told off exactly thirty persons. From the side of Mansur Khán, Sáhib Daulat Begum, sister of Mir Jabár Birdi, and Máhim Khánim, sister [hamshira] of Mansur Khán, were given as hostages. The Khán advanced from the other side, accompanied also by thirty persons. At the meeting-place between the armies, awnings [sáya-bán] were erected. [Couplet] … Mansur, advancing first, went and seated himself upon a throne under the shade of the awnings. [Couplet] … Then the Khán came, and dismounted at a respectful distance. [Couplet] …

When he had approached within the distance assigned by the Moghul custom, he fell on his knees [zánu zad]. Although Mansur Khán was the elder brother, he got up, advanced towards the Khán, and embraced him affectionately [couplet] …; then taking him by the hand, he walked towards the throne. When Mansur Khán was seated on the throne, the Khán rose up and returned to the place where he had first made his obeisance. [Two couplets] … He then offered him such presents as became the dignity of both; while Mir Jabár Birdi, in presenting the gifts [pishkash] to Mansur, made an eloquent speech, as is the custom of those who observe the Tura. Mansur Khán was pleased with his words, and accepted all the gifts. The Khán having knelt again, stood with his arms respectfully crossed on his breast. Mansur Khán then invited him to come and sit at his side, saying: “I know I am your elder brother, but why should you, with your high rank, be so modest before me, who am in the place of a father to you?” The Khán, having once more made obeisance, expressed his profound respect for Mansur Khán, and returned to his seat. Mansur Khan called him forward again and repeated what he had said before, but with greater emphasis. He, moreover, took the Khán by the hand and drew him towards himself, when the Khán, having knelt again, took a seat beside him. [Couplet] …

Mansur Khán began by asking: “How did you fare in those disturbed times?” To which the Khán, with every token of respect, replied: “Misfortunes that end in success—separations that terminate in union—are not remembered. The sweetness of the end causes the bitterness of the beginning to be forgotten. [Two couplets] … Thanks be to God, that in one moment reparation can be made for what has happened during long years.” They went on, then, to discuss policy, military tactics, and justice; they also swore a solemn oath to remain at peace, and to strengthen the bonds of friendship. By the time they had finished all their business, the day was also ended. Mansur Khán next gave the Khán rich presents in the shape of horses and silver, brocades and embroidered robes. At the hour of bidding farewell, they embraced once more, and exchanged the clothes they were wearing and the horses they were riding. They finally separated in the most friendly manner, and each went back to his own army.

When Mansur Khán returned to his own ranks, he called for me and explained all the particulars of the interview, as I have given them above. Thus conversing, he accompanied me from his troops to the camp. He said: “The thirst of longing and the hunger of absence cannot be satisfied with this small quantity of the wine of union.” [Verses] … He continued to speak in such terms until we arrived at the camp, which we did at about the middle of the first watch of the night. At sunrise Mansur Khán sent for me, and loaded me with favours and distinctions becoming his own greatness. He then permitted me to return, and having travelled all night, I reached the Khán [on the following day]. The Khán told me what Mansur Khán had said, and showed marks of regret at separation from him. The result of this peace was that soldiers and civilians—in fact, every individual—enjoyed full repose and freedom from anxiety, and testified their thankfulness to the two Kháns.

Ingenious scholars devised many chronograms to commemorate this happy event. Among others, the date was found to be contained in “Du lashkar ba nishát”—Two armies in gladness— 922 [1516].

[AFTER the conclusion of this affair] the Khán made for Yárkand. At Sungtásh, which is three days' journey from Uch, on the road to Káshghar, he separated from his army, and riding long stages [ilghár], arrived at Yárkand in six days. Here new displays of festivity and rejoicing were commenced [verses] …; and every one, according to his means, made merry and rejoiced.

At the season of the Khán's return to Yárkand, the King of Kings of the Firmament had placed the fourth throne of his sovereignty in the palace of Taurus, and the Prince of the Flowers had pitched his tent on the plains. [Verses] … From the time of his accession to that day, a period of about two years, the Khán had lived in the citadel of Yárkand, both summer and winter. But this year, feeling his mind relieved of all its anxieties, when the season of flowers and foliage came round [verses] … he changed his quarters from the town to the palace of Gul Bágh, [which had been] a favourite residence of Mirzá Abá Bakr. When the temperate days of spring changed to the oppressive heat of summer, the only way to keep in health was to sit under the shade of the trees. On this account the Khán retired to Gul Bágh, and there enjoyed the protection afforded by the shade of his garden. Meanwhile the army and the populace were dwelling in peace, and the nobles and pillars of the State lived in the lap of luxury and magnificence. Every brain had its scheme, and every scheme had a brain [to work it].

All the Amirs came to the palace of the Khán to sit in council; they made the following representation to him: [Most noble Khán] to-day, by the favour of God's assistance, the arm of our State is strong enough to lay low its enemies, and annihilate its opponents at one blow. If you do not take vengeance on your enemies now, when will you be able to do so? If you do not destroy them now, when will you have the power to destroy them? [Verses] …

Thus were the Khán's old projects revived, and he issued a mandate [yárligh] for the mustering of troops and preparation for an expedition. At the close of summer [922] he marched for Andiján, to make war on Suyunjuk Khán. He gathered all his army together in Káshghar, and set out from there. On reaching Tuyun Báshi, he resolved upon a hunt, and issued stringent orders for the preparations. On the second day [the beaters] formed a ring. [Three couplets] … When the hunt was at an end, they left that place and proceeded to encamp on the south side of Chádir Kul. There they learnt the approach of Bábáják Sultán. His reason for coming was, that on the occasion of Mansur Khán's interview with the Khán, Bábáják Sultán, being in the service of the former (whose full brother he was) could not go and wait on the Khán. But when autumn came round, he asked permission from Mansur Khán to do so, saying, that if he did not wait on his brother, he would be considered guilty of disrespect. Mansur Khán had given him leave, and he, having set off from his home of Bái and Kusan, was now arriving.

When he reached Káshghar, he learnt that the Khán had [just] left on his way to fight Suyunjuk Khán and to invade Andiján. He immediately moved on after him, and overtook him at Chádir Kul. The Khán, in his brotherly affection, was quite overcome with emotion, and though Bábáják was his junior in years, went out to receive him. He embraced him warmly, and bestowed upon him brotherly attentions and fatherly kindness. [Couplet] … [The Khán said]: “I was then bent on avenging myself on my foes: to have summoned my brother at that juncture would have been open to misinterpretation. Thank God that we have both obtained the fulfilment of our wishes. The arrival of my brother is as the commencement of conquest and victory.” So saying, the two brothers (Conquest and Victory, as it were) rode off side by side towards Andiján.

On reaching Arpa Yázi, they hunted the wild ass,^347a the deer [gavazan] and other animals. So much game did they kill, that the beasts of the plains and the fowls of the air were able to feast upon the flesh, without fighting for it among themselves. [Couplet] … The Khán, from his ambush, brought down some quarry with every arrow he shot. When the hunt was over, a sumptuous banquet was prepared, in a delicious spot where the air was fresh as in the garden of Iram, and where [the heavens] seemed filled with birds from Paradise. Bábáják Sultán and Aiman Khwája Sultán were in attendance on their brother the Khán, surrounded by a distinguished assembly. [Two couplets] …

When the feast was over, Bábáják Sultán represented apologetically to my uncle: “At the beginning of the spring I was guilty of a neglect of courtesy; I had longed for years to have the happiness of waiting upon you, but my aspiration could not then be realised. After that opportunity had elapsed, I saw that it would be respectful on my part, to come to your court at Yárkand and sprinkle my eyes with the dust of your palace. On reaching Káshghar, I heard of your expedition [against Andiján], whereupon I set out in all haste after you, not waiting to collect an army or make ready the necessaries for an expedition. Thus did I come, [thinking] this time the preparations have been delayed; but next time [that I go against Andiján] my arrangements shall be perfect, and I will bring into my service all the Sultáns and soldiers, with their arms, that are to be found in my country. I will collect such a mighty host that it will be evident to friend and foe alike, that the Khán has, in his train, subjects who can rival the kings of the earth. [If this proposition is acceptable to you, well and good]; if not, it will do me no harm to change my plans. I am ready to devote myself, body and soul, to the Khán.”

In reply to these words the Khán said: “For many years I have longed to see this dear brother. The most fitting form of thanksgiving is that we should return now, and spend a few days together. We will devote ourselves, until next spring, to preparations such as those described by our dear brother; we will then go forward. At the present time the occasion is not suitable; the season is too far advanced. While the enemy remains where he is, we can advance whenever we choose. [Even though we do not go to Andiján at all, nothing will be lost.”] So they turned back from Arpa Yázi, and travelled by a direct route towards Káshghar. Bábáják Sultán accompanied the Khán to Yárkand, and there they gave themselves over to feasting. The Khán bestowed countless presents and inestimable favours upon him; while each of the Amirs offered presents according to his rank and means. [Verses] … When these hospitable entertainments had been concluded, Bábáják Sultán, having obtained leave to return to his own country, rode away in that direction. These events happened in the autumn of the aforesaid year [922=1516].

THE winter was passed in the festivities and enjoyments, above described …^348a The Khán's mind had always been occupied with plans for making a holy war [ghazát], and after much thought he finally decided [whom he should attack]. Between Khotan and Khitái there was a race of infidels called Sárigh Uighur, and upon these people he proceeded to make a holy war. It is a twelve days' journey from Yárkand to Khotan, and most of the stages are without cultivation or inhabitants. When the Khán reached Khotan, a change in his health became evident. The holy war is one of the supports of Islám and a plenary duty. The Khán desired to discharge this obligation towards the faith; but now that his health failed him, he was obliged to appoint certain Amirs to perform the duty for him, and having thus relieved himself of this necessity, he returned [to Yárkand]. On the homeward journey, cups of wine were brought every morning, and drinking went on all through the day, so that [the Khán and his companions] were generally unable to distinguish the light from the darkness. At the end of a few days they reached Yárkand. In the autumn of that year, the expedition against the Kirghiz took place.

Those Amirs who had been sent against the Sárigh Uighur, after spending two months in the plains between Khotan and Khitái, returned in safety, laden with plunder, but without having seen or heard anything of the infidels.^349a

IN the account of the conquest of Káshghar, it was mentioned that Muhammad Kirghiz had come from Moghulistán and, in those days of strife and turmoil, had rendered good service. After the conquest he became possessed of much spoil and booty. Moreover, on his departure, the Khán had loaded him with valuable presents, such as sword-belts, vases, and drinking-cups of gold and silver. [Verses] … On his return to Moghulistán all the Kirghiz had submitted to him. He conducted plundering parties into Turkis-tán, Táshkand, and Sairám, and created much alarm. The Shaibáni Sultáns in those districts found great difficulty in repulsing him.

On one occasion he made on inroad on Turkistán, and had started to return. At that time Abdullah Sultán, the son of Kuchum Khán, was not yet Khán,^349b but he was Governor of Turkistán. He immediately set off in pursuit of Muhammad Kirghiz, and overtook him when he was at some distance from the town. Muhammad Kirghiz turned upon him, and they closed in battle. After a [short] engagement the day was decided in favour of the Kirghiz. Most of their enemies they killed, but Abdullah Sultán was captured, kept by Muhammad Kirghiz for one day, and then sent back to Turkistán with the rest of the survivors. [Muhammad Kirghiz] sent their Khán a few horses, arms, and other suitable gifts, with the following excuse: “I made a vow that if any of the Shaibáni Sultáns should fall into my hands, I would release them. I have been true to my word, and trust that I am forgiven.” When the Khán heard this he was enraged, and in the autumn of the year 923 marched upon Moghulistán with an army, to punish Muhammad Kirghiz. [Verses] …

He assembled his forces in Káshghar. Khwája Ali Bahádur was appointed “Yazak” of that army. In the Turki language they called a Karávul [picquet or guard] “Yazak.” On reaching Káfir Yári [they were joined by] Aiman Khwája Sultán, who had come from Aksu by way of Sárigh-at-Akhuri. In the night it was decided that the Khán should proceed by way of Báris Káun, and Aimán Khwája Sultán by way of Jauku.^350a

On the next day, Aiman Khwája Sultán marched off on the Jauku road, while the Khán proceeded in the direction of Báris Káun. As they were descending from the pass of Báris Káun, Khwája Ali sent two men of the Kirghiz, whom he had captured, with news that [Muhammad Kirghiz] and his followers were lying on the shores of Issigh Kul, at the mouth of the Báris Káun [stream], ignorant [of the approach of the enemy]. Now Issigh Kul is a month's march from Káshghar. That day they hastened their march and reached the mouth [of the pass], which is known as Hujra, at the hour of afternoon prayers. The Khán, attended by a few of his chief officers, went [to reconnoitre] and from a distance espied the tents and pasture-grounds of the enemy. After the sun's disc had sunk into darkness—when Jonas had entered the fish's mouth—the commanders gave orders that of every ten men, four were to be fully armed in the centre of the force, and six were to be equipped for rapid movements [chápkun]; also that every man was to make ready his arms and be prepared for an assault. By midnight all were assembled and in order. When the sun rose …^350b the army was drawn up in battle array on the level ground. All stood perfectly still, and the verse of “the deaf and the dumb” was recited. After a short interval, when it was seen that the whole army was in perfect readiness and order, there came a sudden blast from the trumpets and horns, mingled with the sounding of drums and cymbals and snorting of horses. That portion of the army which had been told off for the attack, suddenly let loose the reins of patience [verses] … and rushed down. The whole of the attacking [chápkunchi] party advanced, while the centre, as pre-arranged, remained in one body and supported the assaulters. When the sun had fully risen, Taka, the brother of Khwája Ali, who had distinguished himself by former services (which have been mentioned above), brought Muhammad Kirghiz bound before the Khán. The Khán said to him: “Although, by the laws of the Tura, you are guilty of death, I will nevertheless, out of benevolence, spare your blood.” And he issued a mandate for his imprisonment, under the charge of my uncle. The soldiers were enriched with his droves of horses, his flocks of sheep, and his strings of camels; while all the Kirghiz whom they had made prisoners, were set at liberty. [Verses] … Having remained on the spot a few days, the Khán set out at his ease for the capital, Káshghar, which, by the help of God, he reached at the beginning of the winter.

I HAVE mentioned above, in enumerating the offspring of Yunus Khán, that the youngest of all was Daulat Sultán Khánim. At the devastation of Táshkand, she fell into the hands of Timur Sultán, son of Sháhi Beg Khán, and remained in his haram till Bábar Pádisháh captured Samarkand, when she joined the Pádisháh. With the departure of the latter for Kábul, she separated from her nephew and went to Mirzá Khán, who was also her nephew, and remained [with him] in Badakhshán. Mirzá Khán treated her as his own mother. On the Khán's return from Aksu, he sent for her; Daulat Sultán Khánim being his paternal aunt. The messengers bore her gifts from the Khán in the shape of horses, vessels of gold and silver and fine cloths. While the Khán was away on his expedition against the Kirghiz, she arrived at Yárkand from Badakhshán. On his return from the campaign he went to visit his aunt, and thus all her relations—all of us to whom the Khánim was either maternal or paternal aunt—had the felicity of meeting her. She remained there to the end of her precious life. An account of her end will be given at the close of the Khán's history.

WHEN Aiman Khwája Sultán came from Turfán, he asked my uncle's daughter in marriage. My uncle willingly granted his request, and from that time forward was busy with preparations for the event. This winter the marriage festivities began.

Sháh Muhammad, son of Sultán Muhammad Sultán, son of Sultán Muhammad Khán, was still a child when his father and grandfather, together with many others, were put to death by Sháhi Beg Khán. One of the Uzbeg Amirs, taking pity on him, saved him. When the Emperor went from Kábul to Kunduz, that Uzbeg sent off Sháh Muhammad Sultán to Kunduz, where he joined the Emperor, and remained in his service until the latter returned to Kábul, when he obtained permission to join the Khán in Káshghar. [This was] one year after the conquest of Káshghar. The Khán treated him as a son and honoured him even above Bábá Sultán, his brother's son, and Rashid Sultán, his own son. While the festivities in honour of Aiman Khwája Sultán's marriage with my uncle's daughter were proceeding, it occurred to the Khán to give in marriage to Sháh Muhammad Sultán, his sister Khadija Sultán Khánim, whose story has been already related. After Jahángir Mirzá, son of Mirzá Abá Bakr, had been assassinated by some unknown hand, this Khadija Sultán Khánim, having survived him, had remained, respected and honoured, in the Khán's haram.

Thus these two important marriages were celebrated at one time…^352a

When some time had been passed in feasting and rejoicing, an assembly of all the nobles, great men and pillars of the State, was convened, who, in the first place, fastened the marriage knot of the daughter of the Khán with Aiman Khwája Sultán, and after that, of Khadija Sultán Khánim (my maternal uncle's daughter, and the Khán's full sister) with Sháh Muhammad Sultán…^353a At the same time I built myself a house, and by way of compliment, some learned men invented chronograms to commemorate the date of the event [923=1517]^353b

DURING the summer^353c which followed this winter, the Khán invaded Badakhshán. It came about in this way. In the story of Mirzá Abá Bakr, it was stated that after the reign of Khusrau Sháh, the Mirzá had subdued several of the upper Hazára [districts] of Badakhshán, such as Sárigh Chupán, Ghund, Parváz, Yarkh, Pasár and Shiva-i-Shighnán.^353d Before Khusrau Sháh was able to adopt any plan for avenging himself, he sustained a defeat at the hands of Sháhi Beg Khán. But when Sháhi Beg Khán established himself in the kingdom of Khusrau Sháh, the Mir of the Hazára refused to yield to him, and after a few engagements, the Uzbeg were repulsed. In those days, all the upper defiles [tang-i-bálá] of Badakhshán were held by Mirzá Abá Bakr.

After Mirzá Khán had established his power in Badakhshán, he was still trammelled [darmánda] by the hostility of the Uzbeg. Nor was he able to restrain the usurpations of Mirzá Abá Bakr. [The country extending] from the upper defiles [tang-i-bálá] as far as Sárigh Chupán, had fallen under the jurisdiction of Kásh-ghar. “When your enemies are occupied with each other, sit down at your ease with your friends;” this saying applies to the state of affairs [at that time]. During twelve years, the districts above the upper gorges were outside of Badakhshán, and formed a part of Káshghar. The Khán, therefore, after his conquest of Káshghar, ordered those districts to be divided into [administrative] sections as if they formed part of the province of Káshghar. Thither he sent Mir Beg Muhammad, whose story has been told above, and during [his] government, Wakhán was a Hazára of the Hazáraját of Badakhshán.

The people of Badakhshán call the frontier [between Badakh-shán and Wakhán] Darázukhán. The Káshghari call it Sárigh Chupán. The people of Darázukhán took violent possession of it and appealed to Mirzá Khán for protection.^354a [They said: “Let us become the subjects of Mirzá Khán.”] So Mirzá Khán took possession of the country without hesitation, his claim being that it belonged originally to Badakhshán: nay more, that Badakhshán was but another name for these Hazáraját. Mirzá Abá Bakr had taken it by force. With the extinction of Mirzá Abá Bakr's power, the region should again fall within its original [kingdom of Badakhshán]. Everything returns to its prime origin. [Mirzá] Khán also contended as follows: “In consequence of Mirzá Abá Bakr's conquests, this country was cut off from its ancient attachment and was, for twelve years, under the jurisdiction of Káshghar. The Emperor, with the help of his brave troops, delivered into my power the regions usurped by Mirzá Abá Bakr. If you desire to have this kingdom it will be necessary, in the first place (on account of my relationship to the Emperor), that I should send him a salutation and beg him to despatch an army to assist me, as I am too weak [to act independently]… When so requested he may answer: ‘that country which I have unlocked with the key of conquest, you may take possession of without fear.’”^354b After informal communications, such as these, had passed between [the two Kháns] the matter was finally concluded by the Khán marching against Badakhshán.

At the time when he determined upon this, one of Mirzá Abá Bakr's sons, whom my uncle had protected [and cared for] as a child of his own, ran away; the report got abroad that he had gone to Suyunjuk Khán to inform him of the Khán's movements, and to induce him [to attack] Káshghar. On this account I was left in Káshghar, where I busied myself with the management of all that was important in the affairs of that country. Mirzá Abá Bakr's son was overtaken on the road, and put to death by some persons who had been sent in pursuit of him.

The Khán advanced into Badakhshán and carried all before him. Mirzá Khán, helpless and in despair, took refuge in Kala-i-Zafar, and gnawed his hands with the teeth of regret, for having done what had been better left undone. When the Khán saw that absolute ruin had fallen upon [Mirzá Khán] and his country, he was moved to pity and withdrew. Mirzá Khán, moreover, realising his own [weakness] did not make any further attempt to overstep his boundaries. Down to the present day that country remains under Káshghar.

Thus was the dust of dissension raised between those two relations on account of a few acts of inhumanity. To the end of their lives they carried on official intercourse, but their protestations of friendship were usually tainted with insincerity; while [the people of] the country itself, were faithful neither to Mirzá Khán at the beginning, nor to the Khán afterwards. In short, the Khán withdrew from Badakhshán with pomp and ceremony, and on reaching Yárkand, his capital, gave himself up to all kinds of rejoicing and pleasure.

IN the following year, Mansur Khán purposed visiting his beloved paternal aunt, Daulat Sultán Khánim, in order that, by looking on her kind face, his grief at the loss of his father might be mitigated.^356a The Khán having agreed to this, [Mansur Khán] set out for Aksu in the summer of that year, and in the same manner, on the same spot, and with similar formalities, as on the occasion of their first interview, they met, and the bonds of affection were drawn tighter. After this, each returned to his own seat of government. From this date—926—to 928 [1520-22] the Khán and his people enjoyed perfect repose and freedom from care, nothing occurring which would be worthy of record.

CONCLUSION OF THE AFFAIRS OF BÁBAR PÁDISHÁH AFTER HIS RETURN TO KÁBUL. DEATH OF HIS BROTHER SULTÁN NÁSIR MIRZÁ. CAUSE OF THE INSUBORDINATION OF HIS AMIRS.

THAT point in Bábar Pádisháh's history has been reached, at which he returned from Kundáz to Kábul. He committed Kábul to the care of his brother Sultán Násir Mirzá, who [however] died from excessive indulgence in wine in the course of the year 921. [Couplet] … Ghazna had belonged to Sultán Násir Mirzá, and after his death a dispute arose among the Amirs of that town, which took the form of a mutiny, in which all the Moghuls and the rest of the people in the Emperor's service joined. As for example, Mir Shiram, the uncle of the Emperor's mother, who had spent all his life in the Emperor's service; his brother, Mir Mazid, Jaka, Kul Nazar, and others; also of the Chaghatái and Tájik Amirs, Mauláná Bábá Bashághiri and his brother Bábá Shaikh. This Mauláná Bábá was one of the associates [sharik] of the village of Bashághir in Samarkand. He won such favour with the Emperor that, when the latter took Mávará-un-Nahr, he gave Mauláná Bábá the government of Samarkand, Uratippa, and part of Kuhistán. Others [who rebelled were] Mir Ahmad, whose story has been given above, and his brother Kitta Beg (the one being Governor of Táshkand, and the other of Sairám) Maksud Karak, Sultán Kuli, Chunák, and others. These were all distinguished Amirs and great chiefs. But Satan took possession of their brains, and put there, in the place of sound reason, vainglory and wickedness, which are the outcome of cursed natures.

They rose in rebellion, putting round their necks the accursed collars left behind by Mir Ayub. In short, after a few intrigues and skirmishes, a pitched battle was fought between themselves and the Emperor. As soon as the opposing troops had been drawn up facing each other, the son of Amir Kásim Kuchin, named Amir Kambar Ali, arrived from Kunduz with a powerful force, and the rebels were defeated. [A proverb] … Several of them were captured [and met with their due reward; others fled in shame to Káshghar.] Among these were Mir Shiram and his brothers, who [on the occasion of the Khán's first interview, and conclusion of peace, with Mansur Khán] had gone to wait on the Khán, and had remained for some time in his service. They were ashamed and dejected. Mir Mazid, on account of insufficient means of livelihood, went to Tibet in hopes of plunder. But at Ghazwa^357a a stone fell on his head, and he was killed.

Mir Shiram, likewise, finding it impossible to stay near the Khán, returned to the Emperor, who with his usual benevolence, received him kindly, and closing the eye of wrath on his wrong-doings, opened the eye of favour upon past services. He, however, soon afterwards, left this faithless world. The Emperor, having become firmly established in Kábul, marched upon Kandahár, which was then in the hands of Sháh Beg, son of Zulnun^357b Arghun, as mentioned above. He besieged it for five years. At length, Sháh Beg, having resolved on flight, went to Sivi, and thence to Tatta, which he took, together with Ucha and Bakar,^357c as will be mentioned in the proper place. The Emperor, having captured Kandahár, proceeded to Hindustán. He made several inroads, but retired after each one. At last, he met, in a pitched battle at Pánipat, the Ughán Sultán, Ibráhim,^357d the son of Sultán Iskandar, who was king at that time.^357e Ibráhim's army numbered more than 100,000 men, but the Emperor utterly defeated him with 10,000 men. He and his army became possessed of so much treasure, that all the world, from there to Rum and to Khitái, benefited by it. The rich brocades of Rum and the embroidered satins of Khitái, which are scarce in those countries, were found in ass-loads. All this will be explained presently.

IN the year 928 [1522] the Khán conceived the plan of invading Moghulistán, and subduing the Kirghiz. He was prompted thereto by several considerations, the first of which was as follows: It has been mentioned that in the year 923 he had made Muhammad Kirghiz prisoner, because he, after having taken Abdullah, son of Kuchum Khán, in battle, had let him go free again, and had sent some poor excuses [for his action] to the Khán. For this he was detained in prison for five years, and the Kirghiz, who [all this time] were without a chief, carried plunder and rapine into the territories of Turkistán, Sairám, Andiján, and Akhsi; they had been guilty of many excesses, carrying off into bondage many Musulmán women and children. Although these provinces were under the government of the Shaibán, and these people were his old enemies, the Khán, being a pious and God-fearing man, was offended. He determined to avert this misfortune from the Musulmáns, and thereby to secure a high place in the next world and a good name in the present one. Besides this, Khwája Ali Bahádur, whose valiant and worthy services have been spoken of above, had, according to his natural instincts, a great longing for Moghulistán. He always complained of town life, and pined for the plains of Moghulistán. He had been appointed Atábeg to Bábá Sultán, son of Khalil Sultán (and a nephew of the Khán), and had had the care of his education from the age of seven till he was fifteen.

He represented to the Khán: “By the grace of God, the Moghul Ulus—both man and beast—have so greatly increased in numbers, that the wide grazing grounds of Káshghar have become too confined for them, and frequent quarrels arise concerning pasture. If you will issue a decree [to sanction my doing so], I will take Bábá Sultán into Moghulistán, subdue the whole of that country, and reduce the affairs of the Kirghiz to order, so that our people may have ample pasture and quiet minds.” The Khán quite approved of this proposal, and held a consultation with his Amirs, who were unanimous in their concurrence, with the exception of my uncle, who said: “The first part of this plan is most reasonable, but it is not advisable to send Bábá Sultán. For the Moghuls, being originally from Moghulistán, have a natural attachment to that country, and as soon as it is conquered they will all wish to return thither. If Bábá Sultán is there, he will be offended should we forbid [the Moghuls going there]; and should we not forbid them, the whole mass of them will rush in, the inevitable result of which will be confusion and discord. Instead of [Bábá], let us send Rashid Sultán, your son; let him become ever so powerful, that cannot injure you; and if it is seen fit to hinder the people from migrating into Moghulistán, he, at any rate, will not object. If they should do so [there is nothing to be feared, for he is your son].”

In the meantime, Khwája Ali Bahádur died from excessive wine-drinking. Thus the conduct of the expedition devolved upon Rashid Sultán. Now it happened that at this time my sister (by the daughter of Sayyid-as-Sádát Khávand-záda Sultán Muhammad Arhangi) had been wedded to Bábá Sultán. Nevertheless my uncle did not allow this family tie to stand in the way, but caused Rashid Sultán to be appointed for the enterprise. Bábá Sultán was much offended, but my uncle feared nothing; he persisted in pushing forward Rashid Sultán, and proposed a plan which shall be mentioned later.

It is now necessary to give some account of the country of Moghulistán. No book contains an exact description of its localities: though incidentally, in some histories, the names of a few towns are given, and in the Suvar-i-Akálim and the Taarif-i-Buldán may be found some notices. For the most part these accounts are inaccurate; but all that can be verified in them, I will state here in abridgment.

In the same way, some of the towns in Moghulistán are mentioned by name and described, in standard works. Among them is Balá-Sákun, which in the Suvar-i-Akálim is reckoned among the cities of Khitái, and called ‘Khán Báligh’; while in Moghulistán and Kará Khitái they have written the same ‘Balá Sákun.’ They have applied the name to no other city.^361a In books of repute and histories, Balá-Sákun is said to have been one of the cities built by Afrásiáb, and [the authors] have praised it very highly. In the Mujmá-ut-Tavárikh it is written: “Balá-Sákun, until the time of the Kará Khitái, was under the rule of the offspring [and descendants] of Afrásiáb. The Gur Khán of Kará Khitái took it from one of these descendants, Ilak Khán, and made it his own capital. For ninety-five years Balá-Sákun remained the capital of Kará Khitái, and all the countries on this side of the Jihun—that is, to the east of it—carried tribute to Balá-Sákun. The Moghuls call Balá-Sákun, ‘Ghar-báligh.’ The author of the Suráh-ul-Lughat, in his Supplement, says that his father was one of the traditionists [háfiz] of Balá-Sákun. He gives, in this Supplement, the names of eminent men [afázil] of every town. In Samarkand he reckons fewer than ten. But in Balá-Sákun he mentions the names of a great number of learned and notable persons, and quotes traditions concerning some of them. The mind is incapable of conceiving how there could have been, at one time and in one city, so many men of eminence, and that now neither name nor trace is to be found of Balá-Sákun. Nor have I ever heard of a place called Ghar-báligh.

Another town mentioned in books is Taráz. It is said that the Moghuls call Taráz, ‘Yángi’; and this Yángi is placed in Moghul-istán. There are many men of Yángi in Mávará-un-Nahr who are called ‘Yangiligh.’ Now in those deserts [mafáza], which they call Yángi, there are remains of many cities, in the form of domes, minarets, and traces of schools and monasteries; but it is not evident which of these ruined cities was Yángi, or what were the names of the others.

Another famous town was Almáligh,^364a which is known at the present day. The tomb of Tughluk Timur Khán is there, together with [other] traces of the city's prosperity. The dome of the Khán's tomb is remarkable, being lofty and decorated; while on the plaster, inscriptions are written. I recall one-half of a line, from one of the books, namely: “This court [bárgáh] was the work of a master-weaver [shar-báf]”—words which show that this master was an Iráki; for in Irák they call a weaver [jámabáf] ‘shar-báf.’ As far as I can recollect, the date inscribed on that dome was seven hundred and sixty and odd.^364b

There are many other cities in Moghulistán, in which traces remain of very fine buildings. In some places they still stand intact.^364c In [the district of] Jud^364d there are traces of an important town, and remains of minarets, domes, and schools. Since the name of that town is not known, the Moghuls call it ‘Minárá.’ In the same place is also a dome made of stone, into which the following inscription has been cut, in the Naskhi writing: “This is the tomb of [titles omitted] Imám Muhammad Fakih Balá Sákuni [Arabic invocation], who died in the year 711. Written by Khwája Omar Hadávi.” Jud is a district [mauza] of Moghulistán, of a month's journey in length. In it there are many cities like this one.

In Moghulistán there is a place [mausa] called Yumghál,^365a which is well known. There a dome is to be found, half fallen into ruin. The inscription on it reads: “Sháh Jalil, son of Kism, son of Abbás…” The rest has broken away, so it is not clear whether this was his tomb, or whether the inscription refers to some one else. God alone knows. Such remains as these are to be found all over Moghulistán, but the names of the towns are never known. The tomb of Mauláná Sakkáki, author of “The Key” [Miftáh], has a lofty dome. It is situated on the banks of the River Tiká, which flows from the foot of the lake.^365b With the exception of this dome, there are no remains in that place. It was either a town of which nothing is left, or else it was there that Chaghatái Khán slew [the Mauláná], the building being afterwards raised [over the spot]. God knows best. The story of Mauláná Sakkáki is told in histories.

Beyond this, nothing is recorded of the districts [hadud] of Moghulistán in the histories and books of former writers, nor does any one know the [above] names nowadays. What is now known as Moghulistán has a length and breadth of seven or eight months' journey. Its eastern frontier adjoins the Kálmák country: that is to say, Báris Kul, Imál, and Irtish. It is bounded on the north by Kukcha-Tangiz, Bum Lish, and Karátál;^365c on the west by Turkistán and Táshkand; and on the south by the provinces of Farghána, Káshghar, Aksu, Chálish, and Turfán.

Of these four boundaries I have seen the southern. From Tásh-kand to Andiján is ten days' journey; from Andiján to Káshghar, twenty days; from there to Aksu, fifteen days; from Aksu to Chálish, twenty days; from Chálish to Turfán, ten days; from Turfán to Báris Kul, fifteen days;^366a and Báris Kul is the eastern boundary of Moghulistán. [The whole of the southern boundary] is about three months' march at a medium pace, for it is ninety stages. I have never visited the other three boundaries, but I have learned [something] about them from the descriptions of persons who have travelled in those quarters. The greater part of this country, which is seven or eight months' journey [in circuit], is mountain or desert,^366b and is very beautiful and pleasant—so much so, that I am incapable of describing it in words. On the mountains and in the plains, grow numberless flowers, whose names no one knows; they are not to be met with outside Moghul-istán, nor can they possibly be described. The summer is, in most parts, quite temperate, so that if a single tunic [tái kurta] be worn, no other covering is required, though even if more be worn, the heat does not make one uncomfortable. However, in some parts of the country, the temperature inclines to be cold.

There are many large rivers in Moghulistán—as large, or nearly so, as the Jihun; for example, the Ila, the Imil, the Irtish, and the Nárin, not one of which is inferior to the Jihun or the Sihun. Most of them flow into the lake of Kukcha Tangiz, which separates Moghulistán from Uzbegistán. Its length is eight months' journey,^366c and its breadth, in some parts, thirty farsákhs, by estimation. In winter, when it is frozen over, the Uzbeg cross Kuk-cha Tangiz on the ice, and thus enter Moghulistán. By using all possible speed, they can cross in two nights and a day into Moghulistán, and can return in the same time. At the end of winter they cross with the same rapidity; but at that time of the year it is dangerous, and it often happens that the ice gives way. On one occasion a hundred and twenty families, more or less, perished under the ice. The water of this lake is sweet. The same quantity of water that flows into the lake is not discharged from it. What does flow out is about equivalent to one of the rivers which enters it. It flows down through Uzbegistán, under the name of Atal, and empties itself into the Kulzum [Caspian].

Another point of interest in Moghulistán is Issigh Kul, [a lake] into which nearly as much water flows as into Kukcha Tangiz. It is twenty days' journey,^367a and no water issues from it on any side. It is surrounded by hills. All the water that flows into it is sweet and agreeable, but once it enters the lake it becomes so bitter and salt that one cannot even use it for washing, for if any of it enters the eyes or mouth, severe inflammation is produced; it has also a most unpleasant taste in the mouth. It is remarkably pure and clean, so that if, for example, some is poured into a china cup, no sediment appears at the bottom. The water of the rivers around is delicious. Aromatic herbs, flowers and fruitbearing trees are plentiful, while the surrounding hills and plains abound in antelopes [áhu] and birds. There are few localities in Moghulistán more remarkable for their climate.

From the year 916 the Kirghiz, for the reasons mentioned above, have rendered it impossible for any Moghul to live in Moghulistán. In the year 928 the Khán resolved to subdue Moghulistán, as shall be explained.

Mirzá Ali Taghái, Khwája Ali Bahádur, and most of the Amirs, supporting the cause of Bábá Sultán, desired that he should be sent in command of the expedition against Moghulistán and the Kirghiz. His father, Sultán Khalil Sultán, had been leader of the Kirghiz, as has been explained; and he therefore had some right in the matter. My uncle alone supported Rashid Sultán, who was the Khán's son, and upon him the conduct of the expedition finally devolved. Active preparations were set on foot [verses]: … and in the course of the year 928, Rashid Sultán set out loaded with favours. Mirzá Ali Taghái was appointed Ulus-beg , and Muhammad Kirghiz being released from confinement, was made Amir of the Kirghiz; while brave warriors and distinguished Amirs were chosen out of all the Moghul tribes. [Couplet]. … Everything becoming the prince's rank and dignity was made ready; such as banners [tugh], trumpets, mint [zaráb-khána] and all kinds of furniture. Feasts were given to the Amirs and soldiers, who made merry; and favours were bestowed on all. [The Khán] gave his son much good advice. [Verses]… Indeed he lavished sermons and wise counsels on the young prince, who did not heed them, for is it not said: Sermons and advice are as wind to the profligates of this world? Finally, however, the army was despatched.

At the hour of his taking leave of Rashid Sultán, the Khán said to me: “You accoutre him: fasten on his quiver and sword, and mount him on his horse: it may bring good fortune. In respect of what I have told him, let him be your pupil: you shall be his master…^368a

In short the Khán sent them off in the handsomest manner, and himself returned to Káshghar. [Two couplets] …

With their entrance into Moghulistán, Muhammad Kirghiz marched on in advance. He brought in most of the Kirghiz, though a few fled to the farthest confines of Moghulistán. When winter set in, quarters were taken up at Kuchkár.

No one would ever have imagined that the Khán could give up this habit, but by the intervention of Providence he repented him of his intemperance …^369b

In short, at the end of the winter following that spring which saw Rashid Sultán set out for Moghulistán, the Khán happened to be in Yángi-Hisár. My uncle was in attendance on him, while I was in Yárkand. I have frequently heard the Khán relate that, one night when a drinking bout was coming to an end, the following verse came into his head: “‘At night he is drunk, at dawn he is drunk, and all day he is crop-sick; see how he passes his noble life! It is time that thou should'st return to thy God [and abandon these unseemly practices].’ When this purpose had become fixed in my heart, I again became irresolute [and said to myself]: ‘these ideas are merely the outcome of excessive inebriety. For otherwise, who could endure life without this form of enjoyment?’ Thinking thus I fell asleep; when I awoke I writhed like a snake with crop-sickness, and to dispel this I called for a draught. When it was brought, the intentions of the night before again took possession of my brain, and I sent for Sayyid Muhammad Mirzá, and said to him: ‘I am tired of this wine-drinking, and wish to reform.’” Now my uncle had for a long while been a disciple of the order of Yasavvi Shaikhs,^369c and practised austerity and abstinence; thus he had been greatly distressed at the Khán's shortcomings; but when the Khán now announced to him his desire to mend his ways, my uncle burst into tears and urged him strongly to carry out his intention. Having repented, the Khán went into the assembly; [verses] … the wine-bibbers and profligates were dejected and distressed, but all the pious and the learned rejoiced, while the zealots and devotees began to thank God, and the townsfolk and peasantry stretched their hands in praise to heaven. Thus the Khán repented of his past deeds, and night and day begged the forgiveness of God for his offences…^370a

HOW THE KHÁN, WISHING TO BECOME A DARVISH, INTENDED TO ABDICATE THE THRONE, AND HOW HE WAS DISSUADED.

AFTER the Khán had been distinguished with the honour of repentance, and had entered the circle of those of whom it is said, “God loves the penitent,” he passed into Moghulistán, and joined Rashid Sultán at Kuchkár.^370b Remaining himself in Kuchkár, he sent forward Rashid Sultán, with his Amirs and Muhammad Kirghiz, to the farthest limits of Moghulistán. They collected and brought back the scattered Kirghiz, thus setting [the Khán's] mind at rest with regard to this affair. In the spring the Khán went back to Káshghar. After this, he used to return every year to Moghulistán with his family, to see that the country was in order, and to confirm the authority of Rashid Sultán. In the second spring that he took his family there, most of the Moghul Ulus, who were able to do so, went with him of their own accord and desire. That winter the Khán and Rashid Sultán took up their quarters in Kuchkár, and at the end of the winter the Khán, leaving his family there, went back to Yárkand.

The reason for this was that, since his repentance, he had devoted himself much to the study of Sufi books; and having pondered deeply on their sayings, was greatly influenced by them…^370c The Khán entered fully into the tenets of the sect, and was profoundly impressed by them. From their books and pamphlets, he learnt that the blessing [of Sufistic knowledge] was only to be attained by devoting himself to the service of a perfect [Sufi]; on this account he withdrew his mind from his earthly kingdom, while his heart became entirely detached from the world. He spent most of his time in seclusion; engaged in discussions on Sufism. Not every one was allowed to intrude on his privacy. One of his companions was my uncle, who had been a disciple of the Yasavvi Shaikh's, and who, under the guidance of that sect, practised abstinence. Most of the conferences took place in his presence. Another was Sháh Muhammad Sultán, who was a cousin of the Khán and a son-in-law of his sister, and who has been mentioned briefly above; at times I was also admitted. No one else was allowed to enter, and the people used to wonder what kind of discussions those could be, to which only these four persons were admitted. [Couplet]…

It was finally decided that the Khán should go to Yárkand, and that his brother, Amin Khwája Sultán, should be brought from Aksu and set up as king in his stead. To him should be confided the whole Ulus, while the Khán, divesting himself of everything, should set out on his journey; haply he might thus render the Most High God perfect service. My uncle then suggested that before taking this step, preparations should be made for the journey to Mekka, and all necessaries got ready; that he would accompany [the Khán]; that wherever he was he would spend his whole life in attendance on him, and that Sháh Muhammad Sultán and myself should also be in waiting.

No sooner had these plans been determined on, than Khwája Muhammad Yusuf, son of Khwája Muhammad Abdullah, son of Khwája Násir-ud-Din Ubaid Ullah, arrived in Káshghar from Samarkand, and the news [of his arrival] reached Moghulistán. The Khwája was an exceedingly pious and austere man, and the Khán longed to wait upon him, in the hope that [in his service] his desire might be realised. So he journeyed from Kuchkár to Yárkand, where he arrived at the end of the winter and waited on the Khwája. [But] when he explained to him his resolve, the Khwája remarked: “Much has been said by wise men on this subject; such as: Remain on the throne of your kingdom, and be like an austere darvish in your ways! And again: set the crown on your head, and science on your back! Use effort in your work, and wear what you will! In reality sovereignty is one of the closest walks [with God], but kings have abused its rights. A king is able, with one word, to give a higher reward than can a darvish (however intent upon his purpose) during the whole of a long life. In this respect sovereignty is a real and practical state …^371a But I will show you one line that my father, Khwája Muhammad Abdullah, wrote for me.” And he gave the writing to the Khán. It was written: “The most important conditions, for a seeker of union with God, are: little food, few words, and few associates.” This brief [sermon] sufficed to compose the Khán, and he resolved to pursue the road of justice and good deeds. He began to occupy himself, at once, with what he was able, until the words of Shaikh Najm-ud-Din should be realised. A short time after this, Khwája Nurá came, and the Khán's desire was fulfilled. In the meanwhile Khwája Táj-ud-Din arrived from Turfán.

KHWÁJA TÁJ-UD-DIN was of the race of Mauláná Arshad-ud-Din, who was of the race of Khwája Shuja-ud-Din Mahmud, brother of Khwája Háfiz-ud-Din of Bokhárá, the last of the Mujtahids. During the interregnum [fatrat] of Chingiz Khán, this Shuja-ud-Din was brought [into this country], and of his race is Mauláná Arshad-ud-Din, who brought about the conversion of the Moghuls to Islám. All this, God willing, will be fully described in the First Part. This Khwája Táj-ud-Din is of the race of Mauláná Arshad-ud-Din. His father's name was Khwája Ubaid Ullah. He was a disciple of Mir Abdullah of Bushirábád …^372a Having remained for some time in the service of Hazrat Ishan, the latter gave the Khwája leave to go to Turfán, where he was cordially received by Sultán Ahmad Khán …^372b

KHWÁJA TÁJ-UD-DIN IS ALLOWED TO RETURN TO TURFÁN. THE KHÁN MAKES PEACE WITH THE KAZÁK-UZBEG. OTHER CONTEMPORARY EVENTS.

WHEN Khwája Táj-ud-Din came from Turfán, the Khán received him with due honour. He stayed one year in Yárkand, and then returned [to Turfán]. Next winter Rashid Sultán went and plundered the Kálmák, slew one of their Amirs named Bárán Tálish,^373a and acquired the honourable name of Gházi. He had his winter quarters at Kuchkár, whither the Khán went with a small attendance [jarida] and joined him. With the middle of the winter arrived Táhir Khán, who has been briefly mentioned above among the Kazák Kháns. After a long intercourse by means of ambassadors, it was ascertained that he had come to wait on the Khán, and to deliver over to him Sultán Nigár Khánim, the Khán's aunt.

This Sultán Nigár Khánim has been already spoken of above. She was the fourth daughter of Yunus Khán, and after the death of Sultán Mahmud Mirzá, son of Abu Said Mirzá, she was given to Adik Sultán, son of Jáni Beg Khán, the Kazák. By Mirzá Sultán Mahmud she had one child, Mirzá Khán, who became king of Badakhshán, and in the year 917^373b died a natural death. His son, Sulaimán Sháh Mirzá, is now ruling in Badakhshán. By Adik Sultán she had two daughters, the elder of whom was married to Abdullah Sultán, son of Kuchum Khán, but died soon after. The younger was given, at this time, to Rashid Sultán, as shall be mentioned. After the death of Adik Sultán, this Sultán Nigár Khánim married his brother Kásim Khán. When this last died, the Khánship devolved upon Táhir Khán, who was the son of Adik Sultán. He was very much attached to the Khánim, and even preferred her to the mother that had given him birth. She showed him her gratitude, but entreated him, saying: “Although you are my child, and I neither think of nor desire any child but you, nevertheless I am grown old, and have no longer the strength to bear this migratory life in the deserts of Uzbegistán. I wish you now to take me to my nephew, Sultán Said Khán, that I may pass my last days in a city and enjoy some quiet and repose. Moreover, in consequence of [the hostility of] the Mangit your affairs in Uzbegistán are not thriving. On account of the opposition [of the Moghuls]^374a your army has decreased from 1,000,000 men to 400,000, and you have no longer strength to oppose them. I will be a mediator for you, and will bring about a reconciliation between you and the Moghul Khákáns. In this way the Mangit^374b may be kept in check.”

Tahir Khán fell in with this plan and came to the borders of Moghulistán, where negotiations for peace were entered upon. He came in person to Kuchkár and waited on the Khán. The latter, from love of his aunt, rose [to receive him], saying: “Although my rising [to receive] you is contrary to the Tura, yet my great gratitude to you for having brought my aunt, makes it possible for me to rise.” Thus saying the Khán rose, but [Táhir Khán], observing all the formalities, bowed his head to the ground, and then advanced towards the Khán, who having embraced him, showed him great honour and showered royal favours upon him. After this, his sister, the Khánim's daughter, was given in marriage to Rashid Sultán, in whose haram she is at the present time. She has children, each of whom will be mentioned in the proper place.

At the time of [Táhir Khán's] departure, Muhammad Kirghiz was captured a second time, and brought bound to Káshghar. The reason for this was that he had shown signs of insubordination, and a desire to escape to the Uzbeg. He was therefore detained in custody, but after the Khán's death he was released. The Khán now returned to Káshghar, and I was left in Moghul-istán to keep the people quiet. But in spite of my efforts, I was unable to pacify the Kirghiz, who fled and again betook themselves to the remotest parts of Moghulistán, where they joined Táhir Sultán. Some of them, however, remained. In this year a son was born to the Khán.

IN the month of Shawál of the year 930 …^375a [a son was born to the Khán], and he was given the name of Sultán Ibráhim. Khwája Muhammad Yusuf received him as a son, and Bábá Sárik Mirzá, whose name was mentioned in the review [of the army] of Káshghar, was appointed his Atábeg. Magnificent banquets were held in honour of his birth—more splendid, in fact, than any that had been held on previous occasions. The Khán loved him above all his other children …^375b His life will be recounted in its proper place.^375c

ON return of the spring …^375d the Khán saw fit to go again into Moghulistán to confirm Rashid Sultán's authority. He set forth from Yárkand, and on reaching Káshghar met Hazrat Khwája Nurá, who was coming from the direction of Andiján. Having had the felicity of kissing the Khwája's feet, the Khán proceeded on his journey to Moghulistán, while the Khwája went on to Yárkand. Towards the end of summer the Khán reached Issigh Kul, where he learnt that the Kálmák had approached the frontiers of Moghulistán. The Khán, putting his trust in God, hastened on with all speed to Kábikálár, which is ten marches from Issigh Kul. Here a messenger from my uncle in Káshghar brought the news that Suyunjuk Khán was dead, that the Uzbeg Sultáns were without a leader, and that a better opportunity than the present one for revenge, was never likely to occur; for how long had such a day been awaited?

The reason for my uncle's remaining in Káshghar was that in the last-mentioned spring [summer], on account of the extreme heat of the weather, he had caused fresh green grass to be spread on the ground and iced water to be sprinkled over it; he had then lain down naked on it and had gone to sleep. On awaking he found that he had become paralytic [lakwa], and noticed an impediment in his speech. In the meanwhile, the Khán arrived at Káshghar on his way to Moghulistán, and Khwája Nurá^376a from Andiján. [Two couplets …] There is a proverb which runs: “When a sick man is destined to recover, the doctor comes uncalled”—a saying which illustrates the good luck of my uncle. Khwája Nurá applied himself to his treatment, and that is why he had stayed behind in Káshghar. On learning the death of Suyunjuk Khán, he had sent off a messenger to the Khán, and when this messenger arrived in Kábilkaklá,^376b [the Khán] quickly returned. His family being in Issigh Kul, thither he went; then, taking them with him, he proceeded to Kunghár Ulang, and thence towards Andiján. [Verses …]

The fort of Uzkand, which was a very strong one, was taken. [From Uzkand] he marched on to Mádu, where the fort is the strongest in all the province of Farghána. It, too, fell an easy prey to his army. Thence they advanced on Ush. All the nobles, learned men, artisans, and peasantry in this neighbourhood were agreed that since Suyunjuk Khán was dead, it would be some time before the Uzbeg could come to any agreement. “Until they have decided upon some definite plan [of action],” said they, “let us go and strengthen and provision the fort of Andiján; then let us take up a position in the mountains. As the Khán [cannot penetrate into the Uzbeg mountains] he will not be able to touch us, nor will he succeed in laying siege to the fort.” [So saying, they set out for Andiján.] But when the Uzbeg-Shaibán heard of the Khán's advance towards Andiján, without further conferring or planning, all poured into [Andiján], like locusts or ants, from every quarter. There was no time for making the necessary preparations for a siege, and the Khán was obliged to send many [of his people] back. In that expedition the Khán's army was composed of 25,000 men all told, while the Uzbeg had more than 100,000. [Couplet] …

The men who had been turned away, were sent to Káshghar. The Khán himself went back to Moghulistán and joined his family, which was in Utluk—a well-known place [mauza] in Moghulistán. Then, leaving Rashid Sultán in Moghulistán, he returned to Káshghar, where he again waited on Khwája Nurá. These events took place in the year 931 [1524-5].

LAST VISIT OF THE KHÁN TO MOGHULISTÁN. THE MOGHULS ARE BROUGHT TO KÁSHGHAR FROM MOGHULISTÁN; AND SOME OTHER CONTEMPORARY EVENTS.

AS Rashid Sultán remained in Moghulistán, he made Kuchkár his winter quarters. Now Táhir Khán was in Uzbegistán, but some events occurred there which obliged him to retire to Moghulistán. He therefore came [and settled down] near Kuchkár, where he was joined by half the Kirghiz, to whom he gave protection in his own territories. On this account Rashid Sultán became alarmed, and in the depth of winter fled from Kuchkár to At-Báshi. On learning this, the Khán, towards the end of that same winter, repaired to At-Báshi, and joined his son at [the] Kátilish^377a of At-Báshi. [Rashid's] followers were [thus] reassured.

In the [following] spring, the Uzbeg penetrated to the eastern quarter of Moghulistán, which is called Kháss and Kunkás.^377b

All the Kirghiz who had remained with Rashid Sultán, were anxious to unite with those Kirghiz who had joined the Uzbeg. The Khán ordered me to accompany Rashid Sultán, and [we] having driven the Kirghiz out of Bumghál and Kuchkár, brought them to At-Báshi. The Khán himself went to Káshghar, in order to gather all the people together, and to see if any agreement could be brought about between them and the Uzbeg. He left me in Moghulistán to ensure law and order among the inhabitants. I accompanied Rashid Sultán, until the Khán returned from Kásh-ghar with his family and rejoined our people; then he sent me off to the Káshghar [province] to bring Sultán Nigár Khánim into Moghulistán, that she might mediate with Táhir Khán for the settlement of a peace [with ourselves]. So I went to Yárkand, and conveyed the Khánim back to Moghulistán. The Khán was at Aksái.^378a

Before I arrived, he learnt that the Kirghiz had separated from the Uzbeg. On hearing this, he thought it advisable to go and subdue the Kirghiz, and started from Aksái [for that purpose]. When they had gone one stage, Rashid Sultán fell ill. Bandagi Hazrat Khwája^378b happened to be there, on an excursion. When he arrived, he was able in three days, by means of his Christ-like healing power, to change sickness into health.

Having delivered the Khánim into the hands of the people, I hastened on to join the army, and came up with them the same day that they left that stage.^378c I had the felicity of kissing the stirrup of Khwája Nurá, who then turned back. The Khán [at the same time] pushed forward, and in twelve days accomplished forty days' journey. The details of the matter are as follows.

When we reached Ak Kumás, the Khán sent me with 5000 men to accompany Rashid Sultán against the Kirghiz, who were then in Arish Lár.^378d On arriving at this place, we found their camp and their tents left standing. It was clear that they had fled and got away. Some of their arms and baggage [partál] were lying tumbled about. We concluded that they got news of [our approach]. As we proceeded, we came across some dead bodies, and several horses, wounded or killed by arrows, besides many broken arrows. After careful search, we discovered a man who was half-dead, from whom we learnt that Bábáják Sultán had come from Kusan, and attacked the Kirghiz; that three days previous to our arrival a fierce battle had been fought, resulting in the defeat of Bábáják Sultán. The Kirghiz, having despatched their families towards the Uzbeg, had then gone in pursuit of Bábáják Sultán.

Advancing yet further, we lighted upon some 100,000 sheep of the Kirghiz, which we drove along with us. As the Kirghiz had united with the Uzbeg, we were unable to offer them further opposition, so we turned back and rejoined the Khán, for the original object of this expedition was to punish the Kirghiz, and not to attack the Uzbeg. This campaign got the name of Kui Jariki, or the “sheep-army.”

Now at that time Táhir Khán had a force of 20,000 men, but his fortune was on the decline; for his army had formerly counted a million. He began to increase his violence and severity, and on this account he was abhorred of the surrounding Sultáns and men of note. He had a brother named Abul Kásim Sultán. The people were able to judge of him by the violent treatment he meted out to this brother, whom he suddenly put to death; they therefore all at once fled from him, so that none remained but he and his son. These two hurried forward and joined the Kirghiz. This news reached the Khán when he had arrived in Káshghar.

The reason for his going there, was that the Moghuls had represented to him that the Kirghiz had united with the Uzbeg, and these latter intended to settle down in Moghulistán, while he knew that he had not strength sufficient to cope with the numbers of the Uzbeg. It would therefore be dangerous for them [the Moghuls] to remain in Moghulistán that winter. For these reasons, the Khán brought Rashid Sultán, and all the Moghuls of Moghulistán, to Káshghar.^379a Here they learned the news of the rout of the Uzbeg. At the end of the spring, it being difficult to return to Moghulistán, they remained in Káshghar. It was about the beginning of spring that Táhir Khán joined the Kirghiz. He carried off all the Kirghiz who had been left in At-Báshi, together with the droves of horses which the Moghuls had left in Moghulistán.

BÁBÁ SULTÁN has been already mentioned above, as the son of the Khán's brother, Sultán Khalil Sultán. He was a mere child when his father was drowned in the river, at Akhsi, by Jáni Beg Sultán, in the year 914. After the Khán took Andiján, Bábá Sultán remained in the Khán's service, and was treated with such consideration that he became an object of envy to [the Khán's own] children. Khwája Ali Bahádur, who has been frequently mentioned, was appointed his governor [Atáka]. This man, as has been explained, had a plan [for seizing] Moghulistán, and taking Bábá Sultán with him. But my uncle opposed this, and arranged that Rashid Sultán should go instead. On this account, Bábá Sultán was offended. Despite the attentions the Khán showed him, his resentment increased daily, and in proportion as Rashid Sultán rose [in power], his jealousy became the more bitter. Moreover, some devils of companions (who are to be found everywhere, and who sow the seeds of hypocrisy in the soil of men's hearts) did their best to incite him to sedition and revolt; so that at length he came to the conclusion that there was nothing left but flight.

One of these men was named Mazid, a person of evil ways, whom the Khán had at first favoured, but finding that he did not perform his duties in the posts to which he was appointed, the Khán deprived him of his rank. This person found it inconvenient to remain in Káshghar, so he approached Bábá Sultán, and filled his ears with many idle tales, which Bábá Sultán, from the vanity of youth, or rather from sheer ignorance, took for truth. Among other deceitful statements, he said to him: “It is a ruler of capability such as you, that Káshghar stands in need of, and everybody is seeking for a really good king. Wherever you go, the people accept you as Bábá Sháhi. Look, for example, at Sultán Avais in Khatlán-Hisár. Failing to find a good king, he set himself up on his own account, and now bows his head to no one. If you present yourself before him, he will make you king, while he himself will advance and take the whole of Badakhshán, and accomplish much that I cannot [now] explain. The truth of the matter is, that the sovereignty of Khorásán and Mávará-un-Nahr is far more important than that of Káshghar and Moghulistán [and you may attain it].” Such idle tales as these did he string together, and by persistence, made them appear reasonable. Thus was Bábá Sultán duped by this man and one or two others of the same sort.

In the summer of the afore-mentioned year, they fled from Yárkand. The Khán did not send in pursuit of them, but said: “If they find some one better than I am, well and good; if not, they will retnrn.” Bábá Sultán fled to Sultán Avais, and thence to Badakhshán. Here he saw that he had been deceived, and that these cowardly men had misled him for their own private ends. Repentant, he returned to Káshghar. But the Khán was unwilling [that he should remain], as shall be shortly explained. So being obliged to quit the country, he withdrew to Hindustán, where he conducted himself badly. Bábar Pádisháh gave him Ruhtak, an important town in Hisár-Firuza, where he followed his uncommendable courses, but shortly afterwards was seized with dysentery, and died in the course of the year 937, at the age of twenty-four. In his youth he had been so spoiled by the Khán, that his masters could do nothing with him, and his studies came to naught. [Two couplets]… Yet he was not devoid of natural talents, for he was a skilled archer and conversed well. At an early period he was fond of me, and we were such warm friends that we always used the same tent on journeys, and the same dwelling at court. His aunt was with me and my sister with him, on which account we were always able to associate without ceremony. Then occurred the affair of my uncle; a bitterness arose between them, and he plotted against the Khán. All my warnings and reproofs were in vain, and after this our friendship began to cool. When he came back [from his flight into Badakh-shán] the Khán sent me to order him away again. [On our meeting, Bábá Sultán] began to make profuse excuses and apologies and to profess regret that he had turned a deaf ear to my counsels. [Verses]… Seeing him thus sad and repentant, I hoped he might persist in reforming his conduct, but on reaching India, a change for the worse came over him, and on account of his former evil associations, he never again mended his ways. [Verse]… His body was carried from Ruhtak to Badakhshán, and was buried in the tomb of Sháh Sultán Muhammad Badakhshi—his grandfather on his grandmother's side.

SHÁH MUHAMMAD SULTÁN was the son of Sultán Muhammad Sultán, son of Sultán Mahmud Khán, son of Yunus Khán. He was only a child when Sultán Mahmud Khán, with his [other] children, was put to death by Sháhi Beg Khán, as has been explained. One of Sháhi Beg Khán's Amirs, taking pity on this child, instead of putting him to death, kept him safe in hiding. After Sháhi Beg Khán had been killed, and Bábar Pádisháh conquered Mávará-un-Nahr, this Uzbeg Amir sent the child to the Emperor, in whose service he remained [for some time]. When the Emperor, on account of the successes of the Uzbeg, was obliged to return to Kábul, Sháh Muhammad Sultán stayed in Badakhshán with Mirzá Khán. On hearing of the conquest of Káshghar, he went to join the Khán, who loved, and treated, him as his own son. He was brought up in the special apartments of [the Khan's] children, and when he was grown up, the Khán gave him his full sister, Khadija Sultán Khánim, as a proof of his love and a token of his perfect regard for him. [Couplet]…

We spent most of our time in each other's society. During nine years Sháh Muhammad Sultán, Bábá Sultan and I had remained continually in the Khán's service. Like the three dots under the letter Sin in Said,^382a we were never separated, nor did we leave his service for a moment on any pretext. Our worldly goods we shared in common, and were participators in each other's praise and blame…^382b

For nine years this unanimity of feeling and action continued. But at length the crooked wheel of fortune worked a change…^382c In the spring following the winter in which Bábá Sultan fled, a strange circumstance happened to Sháh Muhammad Sultán. The details are as follows. There was, at this time, a certain Bábá Sayyid, son of the sister of Mirzá Muhammad Begjik, for whom Sháh Muhammad Sultán conceived a great friendship. But Bábá Sayyid was a young man who, from the first, passed the limits of decency and moderation. [Verses concerning impiety and immorality]… The remonstrances, reproofs and advice of the Khán and myself were in vain; his immoral conduct could not be checked, and he went so far as to prompt the young Sultán to aspire to sovereignty. The matter was rumoured everywhere and discussed by every one, till at last the Khán saw no remedy, but to banish the young sultán from the country. [Couplet]… He therefore sent Sháh Muhammad Sultán, together with Bábá Sayyid and some attendants, to Karátigin. Two of the Amirs, Muhammadi Barlás and Amir Jánaka, attended them as an escort. But on the road Amir Jánaka showed some hostility and wished to convey the Sultán to some place [other than their destination], on which account Muhammadi Barlás seized him. Thereupon Bábá Sayyid incited Sháh Muhammad Sultán to attempt the release of Amir Jánaka, saying: “It is his fidelity to you that has exposed him to this misfortune. You must save him from the hands of Muhammadi Barlás, by main force. What can Muhammadi do to you?” Sháh Muhammad Sultán, deceived by these words, turned back and at midnight approached the party, who being apprehensive [of some such danger] were standing fully armed. [As he approached] he called out: “Release Amir Jánaka!” to which they replied: “Whosoever you may be, retire! otherwise we will smother you in arrows.” The Sultán heard this threat, but paid no attention to it. (Has it not been said: at night the king is unjust?) The party then let fly their arrows and, by chance, the Sultán was struck [in the breast]; he retired a short distance and then expired. Muhammadi captured Amir Jánaka.

Having acted thus violently without orders, the party were thrown into the utmost consternation and knew not what to do next. A strange discussion took place among the Ulus. Some who had advised the Sultán, fled. Others, the Khán reassured with promises and agreements.

In the meanwhile Bábá Sultán, who had fled the previous winter to Khatlán and Kunduz, having discovered that what Mazid and the rest of them had told him was false and groundless, returned ashamed and penitent. The Khán sent me to meet him, and I turned him back; but I supplied him with all necessaries for the journey, before bidding him farewell, as has been related. The wife of Sháh Muhammad Sultán (the Khán's sister) and Sultán Nigár Khánim and Daulat Sultán Khánim (the Khán's aunt) and also the aunt of Sháh Muhammad Sultán's father, and the Khán's wife, Zainab Sultán Khánim (Sháh Muhammad Sultán's aunt) all came and demanded of the Khán why he had ordered the death of Sháh Muhammad Sultán. Whereupon the Khán swore a solemn oath, saying: “I did not give the order.” They then said: “Deliver Muhammadi over to us! that we may avenge on him the death [of the Sultán].” To this the Khán agreed.

Muhammadi appealed to me and my uncle to rescue him. He was in the service of Rashid Sultán. He begged me to use my endeavours for his security, so I took his part, and privately, but with great emphasis, represented to the Khán as follows: “The Sultáns who were brothers are all gone: this Sultán, who is your son, and still remains, will also be offended, and I too should be much afflicted [if you put Muhammadi to death], for he is a blood relation of mine.” The Khán then placed the whole matter in my hands [saying: “You can act as you choose; if you wish to retaliate, do so: if you wish to let him go, the choice lies with you.”] But the above-mentioned Khánims, who were all either my maternal aunts or their daughters, began with one accord to blame and reproach me, saying: “What in the world will your blood connection with the Barlás lead you to, if it make you neglect such an important duty as this? Sháh Muhammad Sultán was a closer connection by many degrees than he. If [Muhammadi] is your father's uncle, this man [Sháh Muhammad Sultán] was your own uncle, and besides this, your friend and companion. Your cousin^384a Khadija is his wife, and his wife's sister (the daughter of his paternal uncle) is of your household.^384b How can you, in consideration of all this, attach yourself to the side of Muhammadi?” [Such were the taunts and reproaches they poured down on me]; nevertheless, Fate willed that I should pay no attention to the true words of my relations; I returned falsehood for truth and would not hear of retaliation. I put Muhammadi under the care of my uncle, who carried him off into the mountainous tracts of Káshghar.

This incident led to a certain degree of ill-feeling between myself and my relations, [which was, however, dispelled a short time after]. But I was caused much trouble and exposed to great annoyance, ere I was able to deliver Muhammadi Barlás out of the hands of the Khánims; and [in doing so] I raised an executioner for my uncle and his children. I brought calamity upon myself— God forgive me! and again I say God forgive me! Since I did this unjust action, God sent this same Muhammadi [to overpower us]. Verily injustice can only bring ruin in its train. This same Muhammadi, whom I and my uncle had saved from so great a danger, neglected nothing in his endeavours to murder my uncle and his children, and to bring about the extinction of myself and my house—a house upon which four hundred years had worked no change. The Prophet said: “Whoso helpeth a tyrant, God will give the tyrant power over him.” …^384c

AFTER the affair of Sháh Muhammad Sultán, misunderstandings arose among my relations. In the winter of the same year, the Khán commanded Rashid Sultán and myself to make a holy war on Balur. Though we had been at variance with our relations, we made it up, and set out in all haste for Balur.

Balur is an infidel country [Káfiristán], and most of its inhabitants are mountaineers. Not one of them has a religion or a creed. Nor is there anything which they [consider it right to] abstain from or to avoid [as impure]; but they do whatever they list, and follow their desires without check or compunction. Baluristán is bounded on the east by the provinces of Káshghar and Yárkand; on the north by Badakhshán; on the west by Kábul and Lumghán; and on the south by the dependencies of Káshmir.^385a It is four months' journey in circumference. Its whole extent consists of mountains, valleys, and defiles, insomuch that one might almost say that in the whole of Baluristán, not one farsákh of level ground is to be met with. The population is numerous. No village is at peace with another, but there is constant hostility, and fights are continually occurring among them.

Most of their battles are conducted in the following manner. Their women are employed in the management of the house and the labour of the fields; the men in war. While their wives are in their houses preparing the food [the men will be engaged in fighting]. Then the wives will come out to them and make them desist, saying it is time for a meal, and they must leave off fighting. So they separate and go back to their homes to eat their food, after which they return to the fight until afternoon prayer-time, when the women will again come on the scene and make peace, which endures till sunrise, every one having returned to his own house. Sometimes it happens that no pacification is brought about, in which case they fortify and watch their houses all through the night with the utmost vigilance. In this way do they spend the whole of their lives.

As plains and pasture grounds are scarce, the people can keep but few cattle. They own a small number of sheep and goats from whose wool they make clothes, and cows which furnish them with milk and butter; beyond these they have nothing [in the way of flocks]. The tribe of each separate valley speaks a different language [to that of its neighbours], and no one tribe knows the language of another. On account of being continually at war, few of them have seen any other village than their own. In Balur there are beautiful gardens and an abundance of fruits, especially of pomegranates, which are excellent and most plentiful. There is one kind of pomegranate which is peculiar to Baluristán. Its seeds are white and very transparent; it is also sweet, pure, and full-flavoured. Honey is also abundant.

To resume: we passed that winter in Baluristán and fought many bloody [sab] battles, in which victory was on our side. In the spring we returned in safety, laden with spoil, and came to Sárigh Chupán, where a fifth of the booty was set apart; and a fifth amounted to more than a thousand [loads].

In the early part of the spring of 934 we rejoined the Khán. In the summer following, Sultán Nigár Khánim, whom I have had occasion to mention so frequently in this book, died of a hæmorrhage. I discovered the date in [the word] “khuldash.”

IN the year 935 [1528-9] Bábar Pádisháh recalled Humáyun Mirzá into Hindustán. The reason for this was that Mirzá Khán (the son of Sultán Mahmud Mirzá, son of Abu Said Mirzá) had died in Badahkshán, as has been related, and left behind him a child named Sulaimán. Bábar Pádisháh took this boy and kept him near himself, placing his own distinguished son, Humáyun, on the throne of Badakhshán, where he reigned from 926 to 935.

At the time when Bábar Pádisháh had subdued Hindustán and overthrown his enemies, two of his sons had become youths— Humáyun Mirzá and Kamrán Mirzá. Leaving the latter in Kandahár, he sent for Humáyun in order that he might have one of his sons [continually] by him, so that if he were to die suddenly, there would be a successor near at hand. For these reasons he recalled Humáyun Mirzá into Hindustán. But the people of Badakhshán made the following representation to Humáyun Mirzá: “Badakhshán borders on the [territory of the] Uzbeg, who cherish in their hearts an ancient hatred for Badakhshán. [If they attack Badakhshán] our Amirs will be unable to check them.” To this Humáyun Mirzá made reply: “All that you say is true, still I am unable to deviate from my father's commands. But I will do my best to send one of my brothers to you, as soon as possible.” Having thus reassured the people, he started for Hindustán.

[No sooner was he gone than] the inhabitants of [Badakhshán] began to despair; and all the Amirs, with Sultán Avais at their head, despatched express messengers to the Khán, representing: “Humáyun Mirzá has gone to Hindustán, leaving this province in the hands of Fakir Ali, who is quite incapable of coping with the Uzbeg, [and therefore] of establishing tranquillity in Badakhshán. If, by such and such a date, the Khán were to come, all would be well; otherwise we must succumb to the Uzbeg. But if the Uzbeg come and attack us before the arrival of the Khán, they will not be able [by the date mentioned] to obtain a firm footing. We implore his help. Perhaps he may be the cause of our salvation. Moreover, Badakhshán belongs to the Khán by right of inheritance from his grandmother, Sháh Begum; nor is there a more rightful heir than he.” So persistent were they in their appeals, that the Khán became convinced that if he did not go [to their aid] Badakhshán would fall into the hands of the Uzbeg. Therefore, at the beginning of Moharram of the year '36, he set out for Badakhshán, leaving Rashid Sultán in Yárkand.

It has been mentioned above, that Táhir Khán had been left alone, and in the winter had been deserted by the Kirghiz and all his following. On this account the Khán showed him magnanimity and did nothing. After he had been a short time among the Kirghiz, about twenty or thirty thousand Uzbeg again gathered round him; and he prepared himself in every way [for war]. [The Khán on his departure] therefore left Rashid Sultán to guard and protect the province of Káshghar. On reaching Sárigh Chupán, the Khán sent me forward with an advance guard [manghalái], while he followed after. I arrived in Badakhshán and learnt that Hindál Mirzá, the youngest of the Emperor's sons, had been sent from Kábul by Humáyun Mirzá; also that twelve^388a days previous [to my arrival] he had reached and entered Kala Zafar. As it was the season of Capricorn and the middle of winter, to turn back would have been difficult. So [we were obliged to] go on to Kala Zafar, where we tried to enter into some negotiations, suggesting that some of the districts of Badakhshán should be given up to us, and at the close of the winter the Khán would again retire. But they did not trust us; nay, more, they suspected us of deceit. So we finally resolved upon pillage, and, until the Khán arrived, I scoured the whole country round Kala Zafar; I brought together both man and beast, and indeed all to which the word “thing” could be applied. At the end of a few days the Khán himself arrived, and during three months laid siege to Kala Zafar, while his men carried off, from the surrounding country, the little that I had left. Near the end of winter, many of the Amirs who had sent for the Khán, came and waited on him, representing, with profuse apologies, that if Hindál Mirzá had not come, they would have hastened to meet and receive the Khán. To this the Khán replied: “It is out of the question that I should oppose Bábar Pádisháh. You sent me entreating letters, saying that you would be swallowed up by the Uzbeg, and that the presence of the Uzbeg in Badakhshán would be equally hurtful to both sides;^388b for this reason I came. As matters stand, every man ought now to return to his own home.” [Thereupon] the Khán left Kala Zafar, and set out again for Káshghar.

When news of the Khán's entry into Badakhshán reached the Emperor, he was greatly displeased, and after due consideration and reflection, he despatched Sulaimán Sháh Mirzá [to Badakhshán] and recalled Hindál Mirzá [into Hindustán]. At the same time he wrote to the Khán: “Considering my numerous claims [on your consideration] [and the ties that exist between us] this affair seems strange. I have recalled Hindál Mirzá, and have sent Sulaimán. If you have any regard for hereditary rights, you will be kind to Sulaimán Sháh, and leave him in possession of Badakhshán, for he is as a son to us both. This would be well. Otherwise I, having given up my responsibility, will place the inheritance in the hands of the heir. The rest you know.”

When Sulaimán Sháh Mirzá reached Kábul,^389a [he found that the Khán] had retreated some time before. Hindál Mirzá, in obedience to the orders he had received, gave up Badakhshán to Sulaimán Sháh Mirzá, and proceeded to India. From that time to the present, Sulaimán has reigned in Badakhshán.

The Khán [returning from Badakhshán] reached Yárkand at the beginning of spring. On the road my uncle fell ill, and when he arrived at Káshghar, his complaint took the forms of intermittent fever, dropsy, asthma and ague, so that all the doctors who were attending him, such as Khwája Nur-ud-Din, Abdul Váhid Tuhuri, Kázi Shams-ud-Din Ali and others, were at a loss; the symptoms at last became so grave that his life was despaired of. In the meanwhile Khwája Nurá arrived from Turfán, whither he had gone on the invitation of Mansur Khán, who had said that if [the Hazrat] would honour him with a visit, he and his friends would esteem it a great blessing. [Couplet] … Accepting this invitation, Khwája Nurá went to Turfán, and having quenched the thirst of those parched wanderers in the desert of longing, with the wine of his presence, he returned to Káshghar. [Two couplets] …

My uncle's state was now such that he fainted every few minutes, and became unconscious.^389b Soon after his Holiness began to attend to my uncle, the gravity of the disease showed signs of abatement. All his remedies had a beneficial effect, yet as a fact, this was not medical treatment, but miraculous power and holy influence: for the patient had become so weak and emaciated that he could not take medicines, and in such circumstances what can a doctor do? Therefore this was a miracle.

During this time a difference arose between Khwája Nurá and his younger brother, Khwája Muhammad Yusuf, on account of the neglect of a point of etiquette. The breach widened [from day to day]. One day I went to wait upon Khwája Nurá, and found Khwája Muhammad Yusuf sitting in his presence. Khwája Nurá had worked himself into a passion, and as soon as I had taken my seat, said: “Muhammad Yusuf, why do you act thus? If you are the disciple of our father, I am the disciple of his Holiness—that is, of Khwája Ihrár Khwája Ubaidullah; and besides this I have many points of superiority over you. You are foster-brother to my eldest son. Apart from all this, I am supported by God and His Prophet; what strength have you to oppose me?” Khwája Muhammad Yusuf replied: “I also am hopeful of the help of the Prophet.” Then, asked Khwája Nurá: “Are you willing that the Prophet should be mediator between us?” Khwája Muhammad Yusuf answered: “I am quite willing,” and Khwája Nurá having intimated that he also was willing, not another word was said. Thus the meeting terminated.

Shortly after this, Khwája Nurá set out for Badakhshán. One day somebody came and told him that Khwája Muhammad Yusuf had fallen ill, and was asking for him. I went to visit him and found he had a fever. The Khwája said to me: “I know well that Khwája Khávand Mahmud has taken an interest in me for some time past, he is kindly disposed towards me and gives me comfort from the Prophet. But now I do not know what has become of this comfort; for not a trace of it is apparent, and I am quite convinced that I shall not recover from my present illness. Khwája Khávand, who is my brother—nay more, stands in the place of a father to me, ought not to have treated me thus; he has put aside all his brotherly love and fatherly affection.” These and a thousand such lamentations did he pour into my ears. He also told me a few anecdotes, and entrusted some of his household to my care. He gave me a garment of camel's-hair and an apron, as souvenirs. In vain did I attempt to dispel his ideas [of impending death]; he only replied: “I am convinced; there is not a shadow of doubt.” He died on the sixth night of his illness, on the 14th of the month Safar of the year 937. I discovered this date in “Táir-i-Bihishti” [a bird of paradise].

After this, the Khán sent me to Khwája Nurá to entreat him to return, which he did, and the Khán came out to receive him; he placed his head at the Khwája's feet and offered him profuse apologies. The funeral rites of Khwája Muhammad Yusuf were then performed, [including] the giving of alms, distribution of food and reading the Korán through.

But Khwája Nurá chose to dwell in Yángi-Hisár, and the Khán, in order to wait on him, left Yárkand and went thither likewise. There, they and the friends and disciples of the Khwája spent that winter. The Khwája performed wondrous things in their sight. The Khán was continually in his service.

THE details of this affair would be tedious and irrelevant; but it was briefly as follows. Mirzá Ali Taghái, whose name appears in the lists made at Káshghar,^391a was exceedingly jealous of my uncle, but this did not show itself outwardly. Although he tried hard [to injure him], slander and detraction could gain no hearing in the service of the Khán. As was mentioned above, the Khán gave my uncle's daughter to Aiman Khwája Sultán in marriage, and from this connection had come many fine children; thus a bond of union [which should have lasted till the day of judgment] was formed between my uncle and the Sultán.

But seditious thoughts suggested themselves to Mirzá Ali Taghái. Since the spirit of jealousy had no effect on the Khán's relations with the Mirzá, he tried to beguile Aiman Khwája Sultán, and stir up the dust of dissension between the brothers. He would thus, he thought, gain his end. For if Sayyid Muhammad Mirzá took the part of his son-in-law and the latter's children, he would have, of necessity, to break with his maternal uncle, which would suit his [Mirzá Ali Taghái's] purposes well. If, on the other hand [the Mirzá] sided with the Khán, he would be closing the eye of fatherly affection on Aiman Khwája Sultán, and his children. In this event likewise [the Mirzá] would suffer, for the cause of Aiman Khwája Sultán would be ruined, and the power of the Mirzá, in a measure, broken. Acting upon these mischievous calculations, he, by a series of misrepresentations and suggestions, made the Khán and Aiman Khwája Sultán mutually apprehensive of one another.

The details are briefly these: At the time when the Khán marched against Andiján, [Mirzá Ali Taghái] said privately to Aiman Khwája Sultán: “I perceive that the Khán has changed [in his conduct] towards you, on account of my loyalty; he wishes to set up his son Rashid Sultán in your place, and give him the province of Aksu. You must now look well to your own interests, and trusting my words, act upon them.” While to the Khán, he was for ever saying: “Aiman Khwája Sultán is afraid of you without right or reason. It is very probable that he will appeal to your enemies for aid [and stir up a revolt]. But the Khán does not credit my words, and says they are the outcome of mere delusion. His evidence is that this year Aiman Khwája Sultán is committing such and such acts.” [Then Mirzá Ali Taghái] sends secretly to the Sultán, saying: “The right time is now come for you to do so and so.” In his artlessness and stupidity [the Sultán] does what has been suggested. Then Mirzá Ali Taghái represents to the Khán: “I told you that Aiman Khwája Sultán would do such and such a thing this year. My words have come true.”

From the time of the Khán's march against Andiján until his death, a period of some six years, this sort of intrigue was continually going on. And finally the Khán became altogether estranged from Aiman Khwája Sultán. It was in vain that my uncle and I reproved Aiman Khwája Sultán; when we asked him why he acted in this way, he could give no satisfactory reply, but persisted in his course; his motives were unknown to us.

At last we discovered that it was all the work of Mirzá Ali Taghái. When Mirzá Ali Taghái remarked the great change in the Khán's feelings towards Aiman Khwája Sultán, he took advantage of the opportunity, and represented as follows to the Khán: “Since Aiman Khwája Sultán's presence in Aksu may lead to a revolt, it will be better to set up Rashid Sultán in his place, and send him to govern some district of Badakhshán. This would be greatly to your advantage. But I am fearful lest the Mirzás become angry with me. If they consent [to the arrangement] you will find it most advantageous; but it will be a difficult thing to mention to the Mirzás.” (By the Mirzás, he meant my uncle and myself.)

The Khán told me of this; I replied: “In what way is Aiman Khwája Sultán preferable to your Highness' [other] servants, that this change should be necessary for the good of the State? I do not consent to it. His relationship to your Highness is [only] equal to ours. If my uncle's daughter is of his household and has children [by him], the daughter of my paternal uncle is in your haram, and these two amount to precisely the same [degree of relationship]. Rather there is the advantage [on our side] that I have been in your service for twenty-three years, and you have always singled me out for your fatherly care and brotherly love. How then shall I exchange the Khán's cause for that of the Sultán? I will forward any measure that may be for the benefit of your State, by all the means in my power.”

The Khán spoke also of this matter to my uncle, who said: “[Your Highness'] opinion is always enlightened; I am ready to do your bidding on every occasion…^392a Although I did not know that [the Sultán] could harm you, yet I trust your hitherto infallible judgment, and will do whatever is most fitting in the matter.”

These discussions being terminated, the Khán explained to us his proposals. He ordered me to take Rashid Sultán [to Aksu], and after sending Aiman Khwája Sultán away from there, to place Rashid Sultán upon the throne. Aiman Khwája Sultán was to come to [the Khán's] court, and to remain there until the country should be reduced to order. All must be done to advance the affairs of Rashid Sultán. To my uncle he said: “Let all be carried out as I have ordered.” I said: “With all willingness I undertake the task.”

Two days later I started for Aksu. On reaching Uch I was received by Sháh Báz Mirzá, who was also mentioned in the lists at Káshghar. After leaving Uch, I was met [istikbál] by all the men of Aiman Khwája Sultán, who sent a message to me asking: “What has happened? How would it be for us, having set aside all considerations of relationship, to meet [in consultation]?” But I would not consent [to an interview] and said: “As there is nothing to be gained by an interview, it is not worth while to have one.” I then sent a person to [the Sultán] with all the necessary provisions for a journey, and also some trusty men to accompany him. [After that I set myself] to encourage the soldiers and populace [of Aksu] and to settle their affairs in the most profitable manner; I passed the necessary orders to the old servants of Rashid Sultán, and arranged the government of the province by dividing it equally into villages and districts. Thus all the people were reassured. I stayed there six months.

Rashid Sultán was satisfied with all that was done, and there grew up between us the strongest attachment. During my sojourn, we were never apart for a moment. There was not the slightest disagreement between us. All that he did was pleasing in my sight; and all that I performed met with his approval.

Whatever I had suffered in being separated from my old friends, that is to say, Sháh Muhammad Sultán and Bábá Sultán, was atoned for in my friendship with Rashid Sultán. One day Rashid Sultán said to me: “Although formerly in Moghulistán, in accordance with the Moghul usage, and by the Khán's express command, there existed between us close friendship, and we used to give each other horses, nevertheless this fellowship was not confirmed by any vow. I am now desirous of renewing the old friendship and of ratifying it by solemn oaths.” I too showed my willingness, and the conditions of our covenant were that, on my side, as long as the Khán should live, I would remain in his service; but if the Khán were to die, I would serve no one but him [Rashid Sultán]—and serve him in the Khán's place, as he had served the Khán. Rashid Sultán said: “After the Khán, I look upon you as my eldest brother. If, in public, you reverence me in the place of the Khán, I in private will honour you as you deserve, and will show you even greater kindness and favour than did the Khán. I will give such offices to your uncle and relations as you may judge best.” And all this we confirmed with binding oaths. [Two couplets]…

This matter being concluded, he bade me farewell, and I returned to the Khán, who was in Yángi-Hisár. He received me in a most flattering manner, and would not hear of my going back to my home in Yárkand; but instead, took me with him on a hunting expedition to Tuyun Báshi—one of the frontiers of Moghulistán. On reaching the hunting ground, we were joined by the Sultán, who came from Aksu. Soon after this the Khán had a return of his old chronic illness, which took the form of flatulence, or wind in the belly and stomach, fits of shivering, and partial paralysis. Often, after hunting, he got a chill on the stomach, and his malady returned. But on this occasion the symptoms were worse than they had ever been before. My uncle was immediately sent for from Káshghar; but by the time he arrived the doctors of the royal camp had succeeded in curing the disease, by means of effective remedies.

Still, this time the Khán was much concerned about his illness. He sent for my uncle and Rashid Sultán, and said to them: “This illness has made me very anxious. I have frequently had such attacks before; for several years they have happened annually, but this year I have been seized twice, and the second time more severely than the first. My wish now is that there should be a covenant between you (meaning my uncle) and Rashid Sultán. In Mirzá Haidar's case there is no need of renewal, for not only did I establish them on a friendly footing in Moghulistán, but they have lately again, in Aksu, concluded a satisfactory agreement.” Then, addressing them both in the Turki language, the Khán continued: “Oh, Sayyid Muhammad Mirzá, if anything should happen to me, look upon Rashid Sultán as standing in my place. And you, Rashid, look upon the Mirzá as in my place also.” He said many kind things besides, all of which it would be tedious to repeat here.

The Khán took up his winter quarters in Yángi-Hisár, while I went to Yárkand. Previously, when I had come from Aksu I had found the Khán busily engaged in reading with, and learning under [irádat], Hazrat Makhdumi Nurá.

AFTER the Khwája Muhammad Yusuf incident, I tried constantly to induce the Khán to place himself under the guidance of Hazrat Makhdumi Nurá. The Khán would reply: “I desire this with all my soul. Without seeking [what you suggest], I wished to resign the government in order that I might follow that most perfect guide, Khwája Nurá; but the more I examined myself, the less capable did I feel of making an open request to his Holiness. I then resolved to change my mode of living and to mend my ways, so as to render myself more fitting for his service. If I should acquire proficiency and capacity in the right path, then would Khwája Nurá show me favour, without any request on my part; but if I should fail, my petition would be fruitless. I trust that, by God's grace, I may attain my end without addressing an open request to his Holiness. If such a happy consummation should be reached I shall feel reassured.” However much I insisted, the Khán always gave the same reply. A few months after my departure for Aksu, a letter arrived, directed in my name, containing certain [instructions] with regard to the affairs of Aksu; and on the margin there was some of the Khán's blessed handwriting. I have it intact before me at this moment.^395a

(HE is always spoken of in this book as Hazrat Makhdumi Nurá.) He received the name of Mahmud from his father, and that of Shaháb-ud-Din from his grandfather. Out of veneration they gave him the name of Khwája Khávand Mahmud …^395b

I have heard Hazrat Makhdumi Nurá relate that when his father died he was twenty-seven years of age. He had heard his father say: “In Shahr-i-Sabz of Samarkand there is a garden, and in the garden a mulberry tree; and Khwája Bahá-ul-Hakk wa ud-Din Nakhshband used to sit leaning against that tree. Hazrat Ishán, on account of this blessing, bought the garden. In front of the tree is a tank. One night, on the edge of the tank, Hazrat Ishán related to Khwája Ubaid-ul-Hádi and myself as follows: “During the lifetime of Hazrat Ishán^396a I suffered from a weakness of the stomach, which the doctors of Mávará-un-Nahr were unable to cure. I then went into Khorásán,^396b where the Shaikh ul Islám, Mauláná Abdur Rahman Jámi, brought me to his own house, and in his service I remained [for some little time]. I studied some of his tracts under him.” I learnt that he had received his education at the hands of Bandagi Maulavi [Jámi], and from the pamphlet which I have copied into this book,^396c it appears that Khwája Nurá read standard books under him. After the death of Jámi, he went into Irák, where he enjoyed the society of Mir Hasan Yazdi and Mir Sadr-ud-Din. He next went and studied, for a period of six years, under Mauláná Jalál-ud-Din Dáváni, and he also studied medicine under Mauláná Imád-ud-Din, who was the most eminent physician, not merely in Irák, but in the whole world…^396d

Having completed his medical studies in Shiráz, he passed into Rum, where also he devoted himself to study. Thence he journeyed into Egypt. Having performed the pilgrimage [to Mekka], he embarked at Jadda, and went to India by way of Gujrát. Thence he repaired to Kábul, where Bábar Pádisháh was at that time; and I, as already mentioned, was there also. These travels had occupied Khwája Nurá twenty-three years. When the Emperor took Samarkand, the Khwája went thither, and on the Emperor's returning to Kábul, the Khwája remained in Samarkand until the year 931, when he returned to Káshghar, as was mentioned. In those days he related: “In Samarkand I saw, in a vision, Mauláná Háji Kásim (one of Hazrat Ishán's servants) come with two horses, saying that Hazrat Ishán had ordered him to tell Khwája Nurá to take these two horses and go to Káshghar.” Before the Khwája reached Káshghar my uncle was attacked by paralysis, but on his arrival the Khwája, by means of his remedies, completely restored him to health. He stayed two years in Káshghar, where his associates were enriched by his blessings.

Mansur Khán sent some persons to him, saying that no Makh-dumzáda had ever come to those corners [of the earth], Turfán and Chálish, which were the residence of the disciples of his [spiritual] fathers; these people and this country had never been blessed by a visit from the Khwája. As it would be difficult for his friends in those quarters to go to him, all their blessings would be upon him if he would come and honour them. The Khwája accepted this invitation of Mansur Khán, and set out for Turfán, where he remained nearly three years, and brought blessings to those who associated with him.

On the Khán's return from the Badakhshán campaign, Khwája Nurá left Turfán and stayed in Káshghar to attend my uncle, who, as mentioned above, had become subject to fits of vomiting [istiská]. Having again restored my uncle to perfect health, he proceeded to Yárkand. Here Khwája Muhammad Yusuf, as has been related above, did not come out to greet him in the prescribed manner, from which circumstance a dispute arose, which terminated as already described. After this affair he went to Yángi-Hisár, in which place the Khán also spent the winter, in order to wait upon his Holiness …^397a The Khwája told me that after the death of Abdur Rahmán Jámi, he found under his pillow some rough copies, one of which he gave, written out, to me; an?? I have copied it here. He gave me these passages in Yángi-Hisár in the year 937 [1530-31]…^397b

At the end of the winter I went to Aksu, and there [found] the Khán and some of his adherents, high officials, nobles, and others. At their request the Khwája wrote several pamphlets. One of these is the following, which I have copied out in full.^397c

THAT spring, Hazrat Makhdumi Nurá set out for India by way of Badakhshán. The Khán escorted him as far as the pass of Shah-náz, ^398b [representing] seven or eight days' journey. I, being in Aksu at the time, was denied participation in this happiness. On my return from Aksu the Khán said to me: “On bidding farewell to Khwája Nurá, I begged him to recite the Fátiha, and just as he was about to commence I asked him, as a favour, to first of all repeat it for Mirzá Haidar and afterwards for me. He granted my request, and having first recited it for you, he then did so for me.” [Two couplets]… Those who were present relate that the Khán, during the few stages he made with the Khwája, was overcome with grief, and whenever the Khwája spoke, he was so overpowered with emotion, that he could not restrain his tears,—a circumstance that greatly impressed those who were present. [Verses]… As this was the last time the Khán would see the Khwája, he naturally felt severely the pangs of separation.

In short, Khwája Nurá arrived in Hindustán. The frontier towns of Hindustán, namely, Kábul and Láhur, were then held by Kámrán Mirzá, who humbly begged the Khwája to stay in Láhur, but the Khwája replied: “From the first, it had been my intention to wait upon the Emperor [Bábar]; therefore I must now go and condole with Humáyun. Having performed this duty, should I return, I will accept your invitation.” He then went to Agra, the capital of India, where he was received with great honour by the Emperor [Humáyun].

At that period there had arisen in Hindustán a man named Shaikh Pul. Humáyun was anxious to become his disciple, for he had a great passion for the occult sciences—for magic and conjuration. Shaikh Pul having assumed the garb of a Shaikh, came to the Emperor and taught him that incantations and sorcery were the surest means to the true attainment of an object. Since doctrines such as these suited his disposition, he became at once the Shaikh's disciple. Besides this person, there was Mauláná Muhammad Parghari who, though a Mulla, was a very [irreligious] and unprincipled man, and who always worked hard to gain his ends, even when they were of an evil nature. The Shaikh asked the aid of Mulla Muhammad and, in common, by means of flattery, they wrought upon the Emperor for their own purposes, and gained his favour.

Not long after this I went to visit the Emperor, as shall be presently related, but I could never gather that he had learned anything from his Pir, Shaikh Pul, except magic and incantations.^399a But God knows best. The influence of Shaikh Pul being thus confirmed, Mauláná Muhammad, or rather the Emperor and all his following, neglected and slighted Khwája Nurá, who had an hereditary claim to their veneration. This naturally caused the Khwája great inward vexation. It was mentioned above that when passing through Láhur, he had been invited by Kámrán Mirzá to take up his abode in that place, and he had promised to do so on his return. In pursuance of his promise, he now set out from Agra to Láhur. Humáyun and his companions begged him [to stay], but he would not listen to their entreaties. He reached Láhur in the year 943 [1536-7]. I had arrived in Láhur just before, and I now had the honour of kissing his feet.

In those days I used frequently to hear him say: “I have seen in a vision, a great sea which overwhelmed all who remained behind us in Agra and Hindustán; while we only escaped after a hundred risks:” and thus did it come about three years later— just as he had said—as shall be presently related.”^399b After the devastation of Hindustán he escaped, in safety, to Mávará-un-Nahr, by way of Káshghar.

I WAS present in the assembly when Mauláná Muhammad Par-ghari arrived from Agra, with a letter from Humáyun Pádisháh; he also was present when the Khwája gave the answer beforementioned. Mauláná Muhammad began to weep and begged that his sins might be forgiven him; he beseeched [the Khwája] with great earnestness to write a letter to Humáyun. The Khwája wrote: “Oh! Humá, do not throw thy noble shadow, in a land where the parrot is less common than the kite [zaghan].” Now, in this miracle there is a curious pun, for Humá Pádisháh did not throw his shadow in the country where the parrot is rarer than the kite. [Mauláná Muhammad] returned stupefied…^400a

While I was in Láhur, Tahmásp Sháh, son of Sháh Ismáil, came from Irák, took Kandahár from the deputies of Kámrán Mirzá, and having given it over to some of his trusted officers, he returned. This caused Kámrán Mirzá intense grief, and he asked me to tell the Khwája of his misfortune. The next day, when I went to wait on the Khwája, he said to me: “I have seen his Holiness in a vision, and he asked me, ‘Why are you sad?’ I replied: ‘On account of Kámrán Mirzá, for the Turkománs have taken Kandahár. What will come of it?’ Then his Holiness advanced towards me and taking me by the hand said: ‘Do not grieve; he will soon recover it.’” And thus, indeed, it came to pass, for Kámrán Mirzá marched against Kandahár, and the troops of Tahmásp Sháh gave up the city to him in peace. This is an especially strange thing to have occurred, since the Turkomán rulers are very severe with their subordinates. Be this as it may, the matter was terminated quite simply.

Khánzáda Begum, the Emperor's sister, who has been frequently mentioned in this book, fell ill in Kábul. She wrote a letter to the Khwája, and sent it by me, to ask him for a cure for her malady. Now as that letter was badly composed, I rewrote it correctly, and then took it to the Khwája. He, on my arrival, said to me: “I wish to make you partner in a secret,” whereupon I stood up humbly. He continued: “Give me the letter that the Begum herself wrote.” Now, as a fact, I had written my letter in secret, and no one knew anything about my having done so.

I witnessed many other wonders performed by him.

THOUGH I am not suited to the task, the context demands that I should give Khwája Nurá's line of descent in discipleship…^401a

He was the disciple of his grandfather Khwája Násir-ud-Din Ubaidullah, the disciple of Mauláná Yákub Charkhi, the disciple of Khwája Bahá-ud-Din Nakshband, the disciple of Mir Kalál, the disciple of Khwája Muhammad Bábá-i-Samási, the disciple of Khwája Ali Rámatini, the disciple of Khwája Mahmud Anjir Faghravi, the disciple of Khwája Arif Rivgarvi, the disciple of Khwája Abdul Khálik Ghajdaváni. It were fitting that, in this place, I should speak of each of these holy men individually, but on consideration I do not think myself equal to the task. [Couplet]…

I am fully aware that what I have already written is beyond my powers, but the requirements of the context have been the cause of my boldness, and I ask forgiveness for anything that be not pleasing to God or His Prophet, or the friends of God. [Verses]…

After Khwája Nurá went to Hindustán, the Khán gave Amin Khwája Sultán (who had been brought from Aksu to Badakhshán) leave to go to India also. Although this step was necessitated by the affairs of the State, yet it did not cut the Khán off from his kin. However, Amin Khwája Sultán went to India, where he died a natural death. His eldest son, Masud Sultán, followed him into India. Khizir Khwája Sultán, Mahdi Sultán, and Isán Daulat Sultán, after this dispersion towards India, settled themselves in different places, but there is no object in entering into further details. Whatever God wills that should be said of them, will appear.

WE have brought the Emperor's history down to the date contained in the words “Fath-ba-daulat” [930 = 1524]. So much treasure fell into his hands, that all the people of the world benefited by it. In short, I went to India and was employed in the direction of the affairs of that country, as will be mentioned. The Emperor took possession of all the dominions of Sultán Iskandar Aoghán. Raná Singá, one of the Rájas of Hindustán, came against Bábar Pádisháh with an army of several hundreds of thousands. The Emperor engaged him in battle, and defeated him;^402a and in his mandates took the title of Gházi. After this, he marched towards Chitur, where he won decisive victories over the infidels. Returning, he devoted himself to the settlement of the whole of Hindustán. In the course of the year 937 he fell a victim to a severe illness, which the efforts of the doctors were powerless to cure. [Two couplets] … As his end approached, he entrusted all the Amirs and people of the world to Humáyun Mirzá (whom he had recalled from Badakh-shán) and his own soul to the Creator of the world. As soon as Humáyun had mounted his father's throne, such persons as Muhammad Zamán Mirzá (son of Badi-uz-Zamán Mirzá, son of Mirzá Sultán Husain), who had been in Bábar Pádisháh's service, and was his son-in-law, together with others, began to raise the flag of revolt and sound the drums of sedition. But Humáyun quieted them all by his kindness. He conquered what little of Hind had been left unsubdued by his father, and went into Guzrát and captured it; but on account of discord among his brothers and the Amirs, he had to abandon it. The rest of his story will be told later.

WHEN Khwája Nurá passed into Hindustán, and I withdrew from Aksu, Rashid Sultán also returned, as has been already mentioned. During the same winter Rashid Sultán went back, with his family, to Aksu. In the spring of that year, the Khán resolved to conduct a holy war against Tibet. Previous to this, [his] Amirs had frequently invaded and plundered that country, but on account of their ignorance and folly, Islám had made no progress, and there were still numberless infidels in Tibet, besides those whom the Amirs had subdued.^403a

The Khán had always been animated by a desire to carry on holy wars in the path of God, and especially so now that he had just assumed the saintly ways of the Khwájas. He was always ready to devote himself to the cause of the faith, and felt that the holy war was one of the surest roads to salvation and union with God. Prompted by such pious feelings as these, at the end of the year 938^403b he set out to invade Tibet.

Having reached this point in my narrative, it is necessary for me to give some account of the land of Tibet, for this country is so situated that only a few travellers have been able to visit it. On account of the difficulties of the route, which from every point of view is most dangerous—whether by reason of its hills and passes, or the coldness of the air, or the scarcity of water and fuel, or the shameless and lawless highwaymen, who know every inch of the roads and allow no travellers to pass—no one has ever brought back any information concerning this country. In such standard works as the Muajjam ul Buldán, the Jám-i-Giti Numái, and the Supplement to the Surâh, Tibet is not described as other countries are; they merely mention that there is such a region, and some few facts regarding it are given. I am therefore emboldened to furnish some details about the kingdom of Tibet which are to be found in no book.

TIBET is a long [and narrow] country.^404a From Rikan Báin, which means “between the north and the west,” towards Bakani,^404b which is “between the south and the east,” is eight months' journey. Its breadth is [nowhere] more than one month's journey, nor less than ten days. Its frontier on the side of Rikan Báin, adjoins Baluristán (as was stated above, in the description of Balur); that on the Bakani side, touches Huchu Sálár, which is a dependency of [what is called] Kanjánfu^404c of Khitái. In the description of the mountains of Moghulistán and Káshghar, it was stated that the principal range in Moghulistán, from which all the other hills branch out, passes the north of Káshghar, runs towards the west, and continues to the south of Káshghar. It was also mentioned that the province of Farghána lies to the west of Káshghar, this range running between. [This part of the range] which lies between Káshghar and Farghána is called Alái.

Badakhshán is on the west of Yárkand. These countries are also divided by [a part of] this same range, which here takes the name of Pámir. The width of the Pámir, in some places, is eight days' journey. Passing onwards, one comes to some of the Yárkand mountains which adjoin Balur, such as Ráskám^405a and Tágh Dum Básh; proceeding yet further, one arrives in the land of Tibet. Badakhshán is in the direction of summer sunset (tabistáni) from Yárkand, as stated above, and Káshmir is in the direction of winter sunset (zamistáni) from Yárkand.^405b That same range runs between Yárkand and Káshmir, and is here called Bálti; this [district] belongs to the province of Tibet. There is, in these parts, a mountain^405c wider than the Alái or the Pámir. The width in Bálti is twenty days' journey.

The pass ascending from Yárkand is the pass of Sánju, and the pass descending on the side of Káshmir is the pass of Askárdu.^405d [From the Sánju pass to the Askárdu pass] is twenty days' journey. In the direction of winter sunset from Khotan, are some of the cities of Hind, such as Láhur, Sultánpur, and Bájwára,^405e and the afore-mentioned mountain range lies between. Between Khotan and the towns of Hind above-named, are situated Arduk, Guga, and Aspati,^406a which belong to Tibet; and it must be supposed that those mountains extend into Khitái. On the west and south of the range lies Hindustán; while Bhira,^406b Lahur and Bangála are all on the skirts of it. All the rivers of Hind flow down from these hills, and their sources are in the country of Tibet.

On the north and east of Tibet lie Yárkand, Khotan, Chárchán, Lob, Katak and Sárigh Uighur. The rest is a sandy waste [rigistan], whose frontier adjoins Kanju and Sakju^406c of Khitái. All the streams which flow down from the mountains of Tibet, in a westerly and southerly direction, become rivers of Hind, such as the Niláb, the river of Bhira, the Chináb, the river of Lahur, the river of Sultánpur and the river of Bájwára, which are all rivers of Sind. The Jun and the Gang and others flow through Bangála into the ocean;^406d all the streams which flow in an easterly and northerly direction from the mountains of Tibet, such as the river of Yárkand, the Ak Kásh and the Kára Kásh, the Kirya, the Chárchán, and the rest, all empty themselves into the Kuk Naur,^406e which is a lake in the aforesaid sand waste. I have heard some Moghuls say that one may travel round [the lake] in three months. From one end of it, issues a large river, which is called the Kará Murán of Khitái.

From these details it will be clear that Tibet is a very high-lying country, since its waters run in all directions. Any one wishing to enter Tibet, must first ascend lofty passes, which do not slope downward on the other side, for on the top the land is level; in a few cases only, the passes have slight declivities [on the far side]. On account [of the height] Tibet is excessively cold—so much so, that in most places nothing but turnips can be cultivated. The barley is generally of a kind that ripens in two months. In some parts of Tibet, the summer only lasts forty days, and even then the rivers are often frozen over after midnight. In all Tibet, in consequence of the severity of the cold, trees never reach any height; nor does the corn, for, being low on the ground, it is trodden down by the cattle.

Now the inhabitants of Tibet are divided into two sections. One is called the Yulpá—that is to say, ‘dwellers in villages,’ and the other the Champa, meaning ‘dwellers in the desert.’^407a But these last are always subject to one of the provinces of Tibet. The inhabitants of the desert [nomads] of Tibet have certain strange practices, which are to be met with among no other people. Firstly, they eat their meat and all other foods in an absolutely raw state, having no knowledge of cooking. Again, they feed their horses on flesh instead of grain.^407b They also use sheep exclusively, as beasts of burden. Their sheep carry, perhaps, twelve statute man. They harness them with pack-saddles, halters, and girths; they place the load upon the sheep, and except when necessary, never take it off, so that summer and winter it remains on the animal's back.^407c

The Champa, or nomads, live in the following manner. In the winter they descend towards the western and southern slopes of the aforesaid mountains—that is to say, to Hindustán—taking with them wares of Khitái, salt, cloth of goats' hair [tana-kâr], zedoary,^408a kutás [yaks], gold, and shawls,^408b which are Tibetan goods. They trade in Hindustán and in the mountains of Hindustán, and in the spring they return from that country, bringing many of its products, such as cloths, sweets, rice, and grain, loaded upon their sheep. After feeding their flocks, they advance slowly but continuously into Khitái, which they reach in the winter. Having laid in a stock, during spring, of such Tibetan products as are in demand in Khitái, they dispose of the Indian and Tibetan goods there in the winter, and return to Tibet in the [following] spring, carrying with them Khitái wares. The next winter they again go on to India. The burdens which they load on the sheep in Hindustán are removed in Khitái, and those put on in Khitái are taken off in Hindustán. Thus they spend their winters alternately in Hindustán and Khitái.^408c This is the mode of life of all the Champa. A Champa will sometimes carry as many as 10,000 sheep-loads, and every sheep-load may be reckoned at twelve man. What an enormous quantity is this! That amount is loaded in one year, either in Hindustán or in Khitái. On every occasion, wherever they go, they take all these loads with them, and are never caused fatigue or trouble by them. I have never heard of a similar practice among any other people. In fact, some do not even credit this story.

These Champa are a numerous race, inasmuch as one of their tribes, called Dulpa,^409a numbers more than 50,000 families. And there are many more tribes like this one. From some of the chiefs I have asked their numbers, but they have been unable to inform me. God knows best; and the responsibility be upon [those who have failed to inform me].

The dwellers in villages are called Yulpá; they inhabit many districts—such as Bálti, which is a province of Tibet; Bálti, in turn, comprises several [smaller] districts, such as Purik, Khápula, Ashigár, Askárdu, [Runk], and Ladaks, and each of these contains fortresses and villages. Wherever I went in Tibet, I either took the country by force or made peace, on the inhabitants paying tribute. Among these [places may be mentioned] Bálti, Zánskár, Máryul,^410a Rudok, Guga, Lu, Burás, Zunka, Minkáb [or Hinkáb], Zir-Sud-Kankar, Nisan, Ham, Alalai-Lutak, Tuk, Labug [or Lanuk], Astákbark [or Askábrak],^410b which is the limit of my journey. From Askábrak to Bangála is twenty-four days' journey, and Ursáng is on the east, and Bangála on the south, of Askábrak. Ursáng is the Kibla and K'aba of all Khitái and Tibet, and has a vast idol-temple. As what I heard concerning this temple is incredible I have not written it. There are many false stories told of it. In short, it is the seat of learning and the city of the pious of Tibet and Khitái.

THE nature of those portions of Tibet that I have visited, and of its inhabitants, is such that in spite of my strong wish to describe it I find it impossible. I will, however, on account of their strangeness, mention a few of the particulars which I have either seen myself or heard spoken of.

One of these is the gold-mines. In most of the Champa districts gold-mines are found. Among them are two strange mines; one is called by the Moghuls the Altunji [or Goldsmith] of Tibet, and it is worked by a branch of the above-mentioned tribe of Dulpa. On account of the extreme coldness of the atmosphere, they are not able to work more than forty days in the year. In the level ground are pits [or caves] large enough for a man to enter. There are numbers of these holes, and most of them terminate by running into one another. It is said that three hundred heads of families live permanently in those caves. They watch the Moghuls from afar, and when these come near, they all creep into their caves, where no one can find them. In the caves no oil burns except the oil made from sheep's milk [sar-jush] that has no fat in it.^411a Out of these caves they bring soil, which they wash, and (the responsibility be upon those who tell this story) it is said that in one sieve of soil from those mines, ten mithkáls of gold are sometimes found. One man digs the earth, carries it out and washes it by himself. Some days he sorts twenty sieves full. Although this may appear incredible, I have heard it confirmed all over Tibet, and for this reason I have written it down.

Again, Guga has two hundred forts and villages. It is three days' journey in length, and in it gold is everywhere to be found. Wherever they dig up the earth and spread it on a cloth, they find gold. The smallest pieces are about the size of a lentil [adas] or a pea [másh], and they say that sometimes [lumps] are found as large as a sheep's liver. At the time when I was settling the tribute upon Guga, the head men related to me that a man was lately digging a piece of ground, when his spade stuck fast in something, so that he could not, with all his efforts, draw it out. Having removed the earth, he saw that it was a stone, in the middle of which was gold; in this his spade had become fixed. Leaving the spade where it was, he went and informed the governor. A body of men went to the spot and extracted it, and having broken the stone, found in it 1,500 Tibetan mithkáls of pure [mohri] gold (a Tibetan mithkál is worth one-and-a-half ordinary mithkáls), and God has so created this soil that when the gold is taken from the ground it does not diminish [in bulk] however much they beat it out, bake it and stamp it; it is only fire that has any effect on it. This is all very wonderful, and is looked upon by assayers as very strange and curious. Nor is this peculiarity to be met with anywhere else in the world.^412a In the greater part of Tibet the merchandise of Khatai and India is to be found in about equal quantities.

Another peculiarity of Tibet is the dam-giri, which the Moghuls call Yas,^412b and which is common to the whole country, though less prevalent in the vicinity of forts and villages. The symptoms are a feeling of severe sickness [nákhushi], and in every case one's breath so seizes him that he becomes exhausted, just as if he had run up a steep hill with a heavy burden on his back. On account of the oppression [it causes] it is difficult to sleep. Should, however, sleep overtake one, the eyes are hardly closed before one is awoke with a start caused by oppression on the lungs and chest. And this is always the case with everybody. When overcome by this malady the patient becomes senseless, begins to talk nonsense, and sometimes the power of speech is lost, while the palms of the hands and soles of the feet become swollen. Often when this last symptom occurs, the patient dies between dawn and breakfast time; at other times he lingers on for several days. If, in the interval, his fate has not been sealed, and he reach a village or a fort, it is probable that he may survive, otherwise he is sure to die. This malady only attacks strangers; the people of Tibet know nothing of it, nor do their doctors know why it attacks strangers. Nobody has ever been able to cure it. The colder the air, the more severe is the form of the malady. [Couplet] … It is not peculiar to men, but attacks every animal that breathes, such as the horse, as will be presently instanced. One day, owing to the necessity of a foray, we had ridden faster than usual. On waking [next morning] I saw that there were very few horses in our camp, and [on inquiring] ascertained that more than 2000 had died in the night. Of my own stable there were twenty-four special [riding] horses, all of which were missing. Twenty-one of them had died during that night. Horses are very subject [saráyat] to dam-giri. I have never heard of this disease outside Tibet. No remedy is known for it.^413a

THEIR men of learning [Ulama] are, as a body, called Lámas. But they have different names, in proportion to the extent of their learning. Just as we say “Imám and Mujtahid,” they say “Tunkana and Kahjavár.”^414a I had much conversation with them with the help of an interpreter. But when it came to nice distinctions, the interpreter was at a loss both to understand and to explain, so that the conversation was incomplete. Of their tenets and rites, however, I was able to discover the following particulars. They say that the Most High God is from all eternity. At the beginning of creation, when He called the souls into being, He taught each one separately how to attain to the regions of the blessed (which was the path that leads to Paradise), and how to escape from hell. [This He taught them] without palate, or tongue, or any other [corporeal] medium. These souls He sent down at various times, as seemed fitting to Him, and mixed them with earth. And this is the origin of the power of vegetation of plants in the earth. When the soul has descended from the highest to the lowest degree, it is no longer pure, but unconsciousness and oblivion dominate it. In the process of time, it migrates to some vile body; and this migration, although it be into a base degree, is yet an advance upon the state of being mixed with earth. In every body [the soul] makes progress according to its conduct. If its conduct is perfect in that body, it enters into a better body; if, on the other hand, it errs, it enters a yet viler body; and if in this [last] body it still does evil, it again becomes mixed with the earth, and again remains inanimate [muattal] for some time.

In this manner [the soul] migrates from one body to another, and progresses until it attains the human body. In the human body it first of all reaches the lowest degree, such as that of a peasant or a slave. It gradually rises in the scale of humanity, until it enters the body of a láma, in which state, if [the entity] conducts itself in a becoming manner, it attains a knowledge and insight into former states, and knows what it has done in each separate body, what has been the cause of its progress, and what the reason of its degradation. This knowledge and consciousness is the degree of saintliness. And in like manner, by means of much contemplation, people attain to the stage in which they recall what was taught them at the beginning of eternity; they remember everything that the Most High God communicated to them, without palate, tongue, or any other [physical] medium. This is the degree of prophecy. In it men learn what they have heard from God Almighty, and [on these revelations] are their religion and faith based. The soul which has attained to the degree of prophecy is no longer subject to death, but has eternal life. The being continues until his physical strength is quite broken, when his body perishes, and nothing remains but his spirituality. All who have spiritual force of this kind may see [the soul]; but otherwise it cannot be seen with the eye of the head, which is bodily vision.

Such are the tenets of the religion of Shaká Muni. All Khitái is of this faith, and they call it the religion of “Shakiá Muni”; while in Tibet it is called “Shaká Tu Bá,”^415a and “Shaká Muni.” In histories it is written “Shaká Muni.” In some histories, Shaká Muni is reckoned among the prophets of India, and some hold that he was a teacher [hakim]. Also, it is maintained that no one goes to Heaven by the mere acceptance of the faith and religion, but only in consequence of his works. If a Musulmán performs good acts, he goes to Heaven; if he do evil, he goes to Hell. This also applies to [these] infidels. They hold the Prophet in high esteem, but they do not consider it the incumbent duty of the whole of mankind to be of his religion. They say: “Your religion is true, and so is ours. In every religion one must conduct oneself well. Shaká Muni has said: After me there will arise 124,000 prophets, the last of whom will be called Jána Kasapa,^415b an orphan, without father or mother. All the world will comprehend his religion. When he is sent, it will be necessary for the whole world to submit to him, and blessed will he be who hastens to adopt his faith. I bequeath my own religion in order that it may be handed down from generation to generation until the blessed time of his appearance. The semblance of this prophet will be in this wise”—and therewith he gave an image which the people were to remember, for in this form the prophet would appear. People should believe in him before all other men.

At the present time, the chief idol (which they place in the entrance of all the Idol Temples) besides all their fables,^416a have reference to him. This idol is the figure of Jána Kasapa. And they attribute most of those qualities to Jána Kasapa, which apply to our Prophet. I observed to them: “What Shaká Muni said refers to our Prophet.” They replied: “Shaká Muni said he would come after 124,000 prophets, and after him would come no other prophet. Now of those 124,000, but few have appeared as yet.” I insisted earnestly that they had all appeared, but they would not admit it, and so remained in their error.

At Zunka, which is the most famous [place] in Tibet, and one which produces zedoary [máh farfin], I saw another [interesting object], viz., an inscription of the Pádisháh of Khitái. It was written in the Khitái character, but in one corner it was in Tibetan writing, while in another corner was a clear Persian translation in the Naskhi hand. It ran as follows: “His Highness the king sends greeting to all his people, saying: It is more than 3,000 years ago now, that Shaká Muni introduced idol-worship and spoke words which are not intelligible to all…” This much I have retained; the rest related to some orders for the repairing of the temple. I have quoted this to show that Shaká Muni lived 3,000 years previous to the date of the inscription,^416b which, however, not being [dated] in the Hajra, I could not understand. But judging from the extent to which the inscription was worn, not more than a hundred years could have elapsed since it was written. But God knows best. I was in Zunka in the month of Rabi ul Awal, 940 [October 1533].

Another [curiosity] is the wild kutás. This is a very wild and ferocious beast. In whatever manner it attacks one it proves fatal: whether it strike with its horns, or kick, or overthrow its victim. If it has no opportunity of doing any of these things, it tosses its enemy with its tongue, twenty gaz into the air, and he is dead before reaching the ground. One male kutás is a load for twelve horses. One man cannot possibly raise a shoulder of the animal. In the days of my forays [kazáki] I killed a kutás, and divided it among seventy persons, when each had sufficient flesh for four days.^417a This animal is not to be met with outside the country of Tibet. The remaining particulars concerning Tibet will be given in the account of the campaign.

THE Holy War is the main support and fortifier of Islám—the most efficient ground-work for the foundations of the Faith …^417b After the Khán's repentance, he had always awaited an opportunity for personally conducting a holy war [ghazát], nor could his hunger and thirst for this exploit be in any way satisfied by merely sending out a ghazát expedition, every year; so at length, in Zulhijja of the year 938 [July 1532] he set out to attack the infidels of Tibet.

As I mentioned above, Tibet is bounded on the north, where it is called Bálti, by Balur and Badakhshán; in the direction of winter sunrise^417c of that place is Yárkand, and on the west is Kashmir. Having bidden Iskandar Sultán accompany me, and having deputed me to that country, the Khán himself started (by way of Khotan) for the Altunji^417d of Tibet, which is another name for the Dulpa.

I SET out in Zulhijja of the aforesaid year, and in the beginning of Safar, reached Nubra, a dependent province of Tibet. I then sent a person all over that country to greet the people with a general invitation. [He was to say]: “This is a general invitation to the faith of Ahmad. Happy the man who comes to the Faith and obtains his portion.” The greater number submitted; but not the chiefs of Nubra, who were refractory and rebellious, and retired to their castles and forts. A certain man named Bur Kápá, who was at the head of the chiefs of the infidels, strengthened himself within the castle of Mutadár,^418a which is the chief fort of that country. I laid siege to this fort, and was for some days employed in making ready the siege implements, such as catapults, shields [turá], etc. On the appointed day I approached the fort, and the talons of Islám, seizing the hands of infidelity, the enemy were thrown into disorder and routed. Having deserted the fort, they fled in confusion and dismay, while the Musulmáns gave them chase, as far as was possible, so that not one of these bewildered people escaped. Bur Kápá was slain together with all his men; their heads formed a lofty minaret—and the vapour from the brains of the infidels of that country ascended to the heavens.

Thenceforth no one dared offer resistance. Having thus reduced the whole province of Nubra, a garrison was placed in the fort and order established.

Thence we passed into Máryul, and there encamped. In Máryul there are two rulers. One called Lata Jughdán, and the other Táshikun.^418b They both hastened to wait [on me]. At that period Libra began to change. In the whole of Tibet during Libra, the cold is so intense that, compared with it, the winter of other countries is as the hottest days of summer. I then held a consultation with the Amirs, who were with me, as to which district of Tibet would be best suited to establish our winter quarters in, and where we might find grain and provender for the cattle during the winter. As no such place was to be found in those parts, Kashmir was decided upon for the winter quarters. If we could conquer it, well and good; if not, we could winter there and leave in the spring.

This matter having been settled, we left Máryul and the neighbouring districts, and taking the army of Tibet along with us, advanced towards Kashmir. At this juncture Abdál Kuli Yasávul, one of the Khán's trusty chamberlains, arrived with news that the Khán was making for this quarter [Máryul], that on the road he had been afflicted with dam-giri (which is the peculiarity of that infidel country), and [adding] that he wished to see me as soon as possible. That same hour I set out to [meet] him, leaving the army where it was.

IT was mentioned above that the Khán had decided to advance against the Dulpa, by way of Khotan, and had sent me forward to Bálti. At that time the Emperor of the firmament was in the sign of Leo; the Khán, having marched for one month, took up his summer quarters among the hill pastures of Khotan, until the end of the season of Virgo. Those who had had experience of that region then represented to the Khán: “It is now too late [in the season] to achieve anything: for very soon all the waters and rivers will be frozen over, so that no water will be obtainable: nor is there sufficient firewood to be found to melt the ice, for watering the cattle and horses. It will also be hardly possible to kill enough kutás to make a sufficient supply of soup. It is for these reasons that, on previous occasions, several armies have been dismounted [lost their horses] on this road.” The Khán being convinced [of the impracticability of continuing by that route] said: “Were I to give up the holy war in Tibet, I should be disappointed of great recompense hereafter. If this route is too difficult, it will be best for me to follow in the steps of Mirzá Haidar, and complete the holy war in that quarter.” So saying, he turned back from Khotan and advanced along the road which I had taken.^420a

On the way he was so severely attacked by dam-giri, that for some days he was quite insensible, and his life was reduced to a breath. The doctors applied suppositories [shiyáf] and used aperients, and whenever these took effect he became conscious for the moment, but soon again fainted away. To the nobles and courtiers he said: “Although my health is not strong enough to admit of my conducting a holy war, I shall not be wanting in intention. When I am deprived, as I certainly shall be, of the companionship of the living, it will only be to join the band of the departed. Perhaps I may die on the road. As long as there is a breath of life in me I will not abandon the war. When all life has gone out of me, you can do as you please.” During this time he frequently asked after me, and used to say, with emotion and regret: “At the present moment I have no other desire than this [seeing the author], and I pray God that my life may be preserved until I meet him once more.” He also repeated verses suited to his frame of mind: among them the following couplet. [Verses]. … He constantly uttered such sentiments during his intervals of consciousness.

It is strange that in spite of the severity of this malady, one never desires to stay in one place [for any length of time]. Indeed, so excessive is the cold, and so great the scarcity of water and corn, that supposing one to make a halt, it would only aggravate the disease. The cure is to do one's best to reach some place where dam-giri is less prevalent. Whenever the Khán reached such a place he recovered consciousness.

On the day that the Khán returned to his senses, I joined his camp. Having embraced me affectionately, he said: “Of all my friends or children, it is you who have been in my thoughts [the most], and I thank God for having been allowed to see you again.” [Verses]… From that hour he began to regain his usual health and strength, and by the time we reached Nubra he was entirely restored, so that he was able to enter that district on horseback. After this, all the Amirs assembled together in council and each gave his opinion on the best course to pursue. I suggested: “After careful investigation, I can discover no spot in these districts of Tibet, which can provide winter quarters for more than one thousand men. But with a thousand men, there will be no possibility of insubordination or revolt. There seems to be no place capable of supporting a large army in winter, except Kashmir. But on the road to Kashmir there are many passes, which the Khán's strength will not allow him to cross. If the Khán would issue the needful order, he might retain 1000 men in his own service and proceed to Bálti with them; for in Bálti there is no dam-giri, and no passes need be traversed [to reach it]. He might place me in command of the rest of the troops, when, having spent the winter in Kashmir, we could, on the return of spring, do whatever seemed wisest.”

Of all the propositions this one pleased the Khán most, and thus it was decided. At the outset of his expedition [the Khán] knew that Tibet was no place for a large army. Five thousand men had been fixed [as the number]; 3,000 belonged to the Khán's army and 2,000 to mine. Of those 3,000 men, the Khán [now] retained 1,000 for his personal service and advanced towards Bálti, while I turned in the direction of Kashmir attended by 4,000 men, and also by several distinguished Amirs, such as Amir Dáim Ali, who was mentioned in the lists at Káshghar, Bábá Sárik Mirzá, and others.

AT the end of Libra the Khán arrived in Bálti. Bahrám Chu, one of the head men of Bálti, submitted and waited on the Khán. All the other Chu^422a began to practise sedition and revolt, the natural outcome of infidelity. In the first place, under the guidance of Bahrám Chu, the Khán took the fort of Shigár^422b (which is the capital of all Bálti) at the first assault. All the men of the place were mown down by the blood-stained swords of the assailants, while the women and children, together with much property, fell a prey to the victorious army. Furthermore, wherever in that hill-country a hand was stretched out, it never missed its object; [and even the strongly fortified ravines and castles were trampled under foot by the horses of the Khán's army.]^422c

On account of the snow, no news from Kashmir could reach the Khán during that winter, and the infidel insurgents, to serve their own vile purposes, spread many false reports, thereby causing the Khán, and all the army, to become distressed and anxious. At length, towards the end of winter, an express messenger who had been sent from Kashmir arrived, bearing news of our successes, whereupon the apprehension and distress of the Khán [and his troops] were changed to joy and gladness; and they recited the verse: “Thanks be to God who has put sorrow away from us.”

At the beginning of spring they withdrew from Bálti. [At this juncture] the Khán entrusted to Amir Kambar Kukildásh, who was mentioned in the lists [muster roll] at Káshghar, the province of Nubra, which I had set in order and handed over to the Khán. But in consequence of the Amir's bad judgment and want of capacity, the country went to ruin and the inhabitants rose in revolt, each man betaking himself to some strong place. Utterly disregarding those weak men who had been placed over them, the people gave themselves up to robbery and every kind of crime. On this account [the Khán's officials] not deeming it safe to remain any longer in Nubra, came to Máryul.^423a Táshikun, for his neglect of duty, was deprived of his fortress and put to death.^423b It was here [in Máryul] that I found [the Khán's officers] encamped when I arrived from Kashmir, as shall be presently related.

I LEFT Nubra with the Amirs and the new army, which the Khán had sent with me, and joined my own forces in the district of Máryul; after which I set off, by forced marches, in the direction of Kashmir. On the road, all the chief men of Tibet submitted and, joining us, greatly increased the numbers of our army. Some of the Bálti Tibetans, who live in the valleys of Kashmir, acting as our guides, we reached that country at the beginning of the sign of Scorpio—Jamád II. 939—after crossing the pass of Kashmir, which is called Zuji. The chiefs of Kashmir had already heard of the approach of our army, and were occupying the narrow defile of Lár.^423c Having crossed the pass [of Zuji] I sent forward 400 men, chosen out of the whole army for their experience, under the command of Tumán Bahádar Kaluchi, who was one of those mentioned in the lists at Káshghar. When they reached the narrow defile, they found it occupied by the Kashmir army, a few of whom were stationed as outposts at its [upper] end. At dawn our soldiers made a charge on these pickets, who fled down the defile, followed by our men. When the main body perceived this, seeing no way of holding the road, they too turned and fled. Arriving [at this moment] I gave them chase; thus easily did our whole force pass such a difficult place. On the second day after [this affair] we alighted in Kashmir. Having reached this point, it seems fitting, in order to render the subject clear and intelligible, to give some account of the country of Kashmir and its rulers.

KASHMIR is among the most famous countries of the world, and is celebrated both for its attractions and its wonders. In spite of its renown, no one knows anything about its present state, nor can any of its features or its history be learned from the books of former writers. At this present date of Moharram 950, [1543-4] now that I have subdued this beautiful country and seen all that is notable in it, whatever I shall write will be what I have witnessed.

The second time that I entered Kashmir, and when I had not reduced the whole of the country, I drew an omen [fál] from the Korán, with reference to its conquest and to my becoming established there. The verse that turned up was: “Eat of the daily bread from your Lord, and return your thanks to him in the shape of a fair city. The Lord is forgiving.”

The plain [julgá] of Kashmir extends from the Bakani quarter, which means “between the south and the east,” towards the Rikan Bain [or north-west]; it is a level expanse about a hundred kruh (equivalent to thirty farsákhs) in length. Its width is, at some parts, about twenty kruh, and in a few places ten kruh.^424a In this region all the land is divided into four kinds. The cultivation is: (1) by irrigation [ábi], (2) on land not needing artificial irrigation, (3) gardens, and (4) level ground, where the river banks abound in violets and many-coloured flowers. On the [level] ground, on account of the excessive moisture, the crops do not thrive, and for this reason the soil is not laboured, which constitutes one of its charms.^425a The heat in summer is so agreeable, that there is at no time any need of a fan. A soft and refreshing breeze is constantly blowing…^425b

The climate in winter is also very temperate, notwithstanding the heavy snowfalls, so that no fur cloak [pustin] is necessary. In fact its coldness only serves to render the heat yet more agreeable. When the sun does not shine, the warmth of a fire is far from unpleasant. [Couplet]…^425c In short I have neither seen nor heard of any country equal to Kashmir, for charm of climate during all the four seasons.

In the town there are many lofty buildings constructed of fresh cut pine. Most of these are at least five stories high and each story contains apartments, halls, galleries and towers. The beauty of their exterior defies description, and all who behold them for the first time, bite the finger of astonishment with the teeth of admiration. But the interiors are not equal to the exteriors.

The passages in the markets, and the streets of the city, are all paved with hewn stone. But the bazaars are not laid out as they are in other towns. In the streets of the markets, only drapers and retail dealers are to be found. Tradesmen do all their business in the seclusion of their own houses. Grocers, druggists, beer-sellers [fukái], and that class of provision vendors who usually frequent markets, do not do so here. The population of this city is equal to that of [other] large towns.

As for the fruits—pears, mulberries, [sweet] cherries and sour cherries are met with, but the apples are particularly good. There are other fruits in plenty, sufficient to make one break one's resolutions. Among the wonders of Kashmir are the quantities of mulberry trees, [cultivated] for their leaves, [from which] silk is obtained. The people make a practice of eating the fruit, but rather regard it as wrong. In the season, fruit is so plentiful that it is rarely bought and sold. The holder of a garden and the man that has no garden are alike; for the gardens have no walls and it is not usual to hinder anyone from taking the fruit.

FIRST and foremost among the wonders of Kashmir stand her idol temples. In and around Kashmir, there are more than one hundred and fifty temples which are built of blocks of hewn stone, fitted so accurately one upon the other, that there is absolutely no cement used. These stones have been so carefully placed in position, without plaster or mortar, that a sheet of paper could not be passed between the joints. The blocks are from three to twenty gaz in length, one gaz in depth, and one to five gaz in breadth. The marvel is how these stones were transported and erected. The temples are nearly all built on the same plan. There is a square enclosure which in some places reaches the height of thirty gaz, while each side is about three hundred gaz long. Inside this enclosure there are pillars, and on the top of the pillars there are square capitals; on the top of these again, are placed supports,^426a and most of these separate parts are made out of one block of stone. On the pillars are fixed the supports of the arches, and each arch is three or four gaz in width. Under the arch are a hall and a doorway. On the outside and inside of the arch are pillars of forty or fifty gaz^426b in height, having supports and capitals of one block of stone. On the top of this are placed four pillars of one or two pieces of stone.

The inside and the outside of the halls have the appearance of two porticos, and these are covered with one or two stones. The capitals, the ornamentation in relief, the cornices, the “dog tooth” work, the inside covering and the outside, are all crowded with pictures and paintings, which I am incapable of describing. Some represent laughing and weeping figures, which astound the beholder. In the middle is a lofty throne of hewn stone, and over that, a dome made entirely of stone, which I cannot describe. In the rest of the world there is not to be seen, or heard of, one building like this. How wonderful that there should [here] be a hundred and fifty of them!^426c Nor can any be brought down below say 1200, which is probably the date of that of Páyech… The style during these six centuries is so uniform that it may be taken as one, for the purposes of general history.”

If we assume Mirza Haidar's description to refer to this, the largest of the temples, it may be interesting to compare Mr. Fergusson's account with it. He says: “The temple itself is a very small building, being only 60 feet in length, by 38 feet in width. The width of the facade, however, is eked out by two wings, or adjuncts, which make it 60 feet.” He then cites General Cunningham, who estimated its height to be also 60 feet when complete, thus making each dimension 60 feet. Mr. Fergusson doubted if the temple ever had a roof. No fragments of a roof have been found in modern times on the floor of the temple, and judging from the tenuity of the walls, and the large voids they include, he doubted if they could have supported a stone roof. If, indeed, there was a roof he believed it must have been of wood. The courtyard that surrounds and encloses the temple, was regarded by Mr. Fergusson as a more remarkable object than the temple itself. Its internal dimensions he gives as 220 feet by 142 feet. On each face is a central cell which, if complete, would have reached to 30 feet in height, at the summit of its roof, while the pillars on each side of the cells are 9 feet high. No inscription has been found on the Martand ruin, and its date has been fixed from historical records only.

Mr. T. G. Vigne who published, in 1842, a narrative of his travels in Kashmir, had measurements made of the Martand temple, and records that the greatest length—that of the side walls—was about 270 feet, while that of the front was 168 feet. The height of the pillars, including foot and capital, he made barely 10 feet, and the huge blocks of limestone of which the temple was built, 6 to 9 feet in length, “of proportionate solidity, and cemented with an excellent mortar.” His measurements of the side walls and front, evidently refer to the outer enclosure, and not to the temple itself. They are somewhat in excess of those given by Mr. Fergusson, but this discrepancy may be accounted for by Mr. Vigne having perhaps measured the outside of the walls, while Mr. Fergusson particularly mentions that his figures relate to the interior of the enclosure. But however this may be, the Brobdingnagian proportions of Mirza Haidar's account have to be considerably pared down in every instance, as is usually the case with statements made in figures by Asiatics. The chief interest that his description possesses is, that it is one of the oldest notices of the Kashmir ruins that have come down to us—perhaps the oldest from the pen of any Musulman, or foreign, writer.

As regards the question of the roof, if our author's account were otherwise exact, his particular mention of the existence of a dome would be important; but judging from the inaccuracy of his other statements, this one can scarcely deserve much consideration. (See Fergusson's Hist. of Indian and Eastern Architecture, 1876, pp. 279 seqq.; Vigne's Travels in Kashmir, i., pp. 385-6; also Moorcroft, ii., pp. 239 seqq.; and an interesting paper by Mr. W. Simpson, in the Journal of the Inst. of Brit. Architects for May, 1862.)

Again, to the east of Kashmir there is a district called Barnág [Virnág]. Here there is a hill on the top of which is a ditch [basti] like a tank, and at the bottom of the tank is a hole. It remains dry throughout the year, except during the season of Taurus, when water issues from it.^428a Two or three times a day it gushes out [with such force] that the tank is filled, and enough water flows down the side of the hill to drive one or even two mills. After this it subsides, so that no water remains except in the hole. When the season of Taurus is passed, it again becomes dry for a whole year. Though endeavours have been made to stop it up with lime and mortar, yet when the season has come, all this has been washed away, and it has never been found possible to stop its flow.

Further, in Nágám, a notable town of Kashmir,^428b there is a tree which is so high that if an arrow be shot at the top, it will probably not reach it. If anyone takes hold of one of the twigs and shakes it, the whole of this enormous tree is put in motion.

Again, Div Sar,^428c which is one of the most important districts of Kashmir, contains a spring twenty gaz square. On the sides of it are pleasant shady trees and soft herbage. One boils some rice, puts it in a bottle, closes up the mouth [of the bottle] tightly, and having written a name on it, throws it into the spring and then sits down [to wait]. Sometimes the bottle remains there five years; on other occasions it comes up again the same day: the time is uncertain. If, when it reappears, the rice is found to be warm, the circumstance is regarded as a good omen. Sometimes the rice has undergone a change, or earth and sand may have got inside it. The more [substances] that find their way into it, the more unfavourable is the omen considered.

Moreover, there is in Kashmir a lake called Ulur, the circumference of which is seven farsákhs. In the middle of this lake Sultán Zain-ul-Abidin, one of the Sultáns of Kashmir, erected a palace. First of all he emptied a quantity of stones into the lake, [at this spot] and on these constructed a foundation [or floor] of closely-fitting stones, measuring two hundred square gaz in extent, and ten gaz in height. Hereupon he built a charming palace and planted pleasant groves of trees, so that there can be but few more agreeable places in the world.^429a Finally, this same Sultán Zain-ul-Abidin built himself a palace in the town, which in the dialect of Kashmir is called Rájdán. It has twelve stories, some of which contain fifty rooms, halls, and corridors. The whole of this lofty structure is built of wood.^429b

[Among] the vast kiosks of the world are:—in Tabriz, the Hasht Bihisht Kiosk of Sultán Yakub; in Herat the Bágh-i-Khán, the Bágh-i-Safid, and the Bágh-i-Shahr; and in Samarkand the Kuk Sarái, the Ak Sarái, the Bágh-i-Dilkushái, and the Bágh-i-Buldi. Though [the Rájdán] is more lofty and contains more rooms than all these, yet it has not their elegance and style. It is, nevertheless, a more wonderful structure.

In the Zafar-Náma, Sharaf-ud-Din Ali Yazdi has stated a few facts with regard to Kashmir, but he is not quite consistent with reality. He had never been there himself, but derived his information from travellers, who had not a proper regard for accuracy; hence his statements are not always exact.

THOUGH Kashmir is one of the most famous spots in the world, yet on account of its secluded position, it is seldom visited by any but those who make it the express object of a journey. I here give such details as I have been able to verify; having derived them from trustworthy sources and also from the natives. I have taken its position, size, and extent from geographical works.^430a

Kashmir lies near the middle of the fourth climate, for the beginning of the fourth climate is where the latitude is 33° 54', and the latitude of Kashmir is 34° from the equator. Its longitude from the Jazáir-i-Sadá^430b is 105°. This country runs longitudinally, and is enclosed by mountains on every side; the southern range [lies] in the direction of Dahli [Delhi]; the northern [looks] towards Badakhshán and Khorasán; the west towards the county inhabited by the Ughani [Afghans] tribes; its eastern side terminates in the outlying districts of Tibet. The extent of its level plains from the eastern limits to the western, is about 40 farsákhs, and from south to north 20 farsákhs. In the heart of the level plain lying within this mountainous district, are 1000 inhabited villages, abounding in wholesome streams and vegetation. It is popularly believed that in the whole of the province—plains and mountains together—are comprised 100,000 villages. The land is thickly inhabited, and the soil is cultivated. The climate is very salubrious, while the beauty of the women of the country is proverbial. [Verses.] …

In the mountains and plains are to be found many kinds of fruit-trees, and the fruits are especially good and wholesome. But, since the temperature inclines to be cold and the snow falls in great abundance, those fruits which require much warmth, such as dates, oranges and lemons, do not ripen there; these are imported from the neighbouring warm regions.

In the middle of the valley there is a town called Srinagar, which stretches eastward and westward for a farsákh in cither direction. This is the residence of the governor of the country. Like at Baghdad, there flows through the middle of it a great river, which is even larger than the Tigris. The wonderful thing is that this mighty river comes from one spring, which rises within the limits of the country, and is called the spring of Vir [Virnág]. The people of the place have constructed across this river about thirty bridges of boats bound together by chains, through which they can open a way. Seven of these bridges are in the town of Srinagar, which is the capital of the province and the seat of the governors. After the river has passed the limits of Kashmir, it takes in one place the name of Dandána, in another that of Jumla;^431a it flows through the upper portion of Multán and joins the river Siyáb. The united streams empty themselves into the Sind near the [town of] Ucha, and the whole river thenceforth takes the name of Sind, which discharges itself into the sea of Oman at the extremity of the land of Tatta.^431b

This country [Kashmir] is protected naturally by its mountains on every side, so that the inhabitants, without the trouble of fortifying themselves, are safe from the attacks of enemies. Nor have they anything to fear from the revolutions worked by time, or by the rain or the wind.

There are three principal highways into Kashmir. The one leading to Khorásán is such a difficult route, that it is impossible for beasts of burden with loads to be driven along it; so the inhabitants, who are accustomed to such work, carry the loads upon their own shoulders for several days, until they reach a spot where it is possible to load a horse. The road to India offers the same difficulty. The route which leads to Tibet is easier than these two, but during several days one finds nothing but poisonous herbs, which make the transit inconvenient for travellers on horseback, since the horses perish.^432a

THE conversion of Kashmir is a comparatively recent event. The people were all Hindus and professed the faith of Bráhma. A certain Sultán Shams-ud-Din came thither disguised as a kalandar. At that time there was a governor in every district of Kashmir. There was also a queen, into whose service Sultán Shams-ud-Din entered. After a short time the queen desired to marry Sultán Shams-ud-Din; and not long after this event, his power became absolute throughout Kashmir. He was succeeded by his son Alá-ud-Din, who was in turn succeeded by his son Kutb-ud-Din, during whose reign Amir Kabir Ali the Second, called Sayyid Ali Hamadáni,^432b appeared there. Kutb-ud-Din died in less than forty days,^433a and was succeeded by his son Sultán Iskandar, who established the Musulmán faith and destroyed all the idol-temples. His son Sultán Zain-ul-Abidin succeeded him, and reigned for fifty years.^433b He devoted himself to embellishing Kashmir with buildings, and in order to humour all the nations of the world, he paid attention neither to Infidelity nor Islám. It was in his reign that Kashmir^434a became a city, which it has remained to this day.

In Kashmir one meets with all those arts and crafts which are, in most cities, uncommon, such as stone-polishing, stone-cutting, bottle-making, window-cutting [tábdán-turásh], gold-beating, etc. In the whole of Mávará-un-Nahr, except in Samarkand and Bokhárá, these are nowhere to be met with, while in Kashmir they are even abundant. This is all due to Sultán Zain-ul-Abidin. After him, the power of the Sultáns of Kashmir began to decline, and the Amirs became so strong that the Sultáns ruled in name only; insomuch that outward respect was no longer paid them. Those helpless Sultáns, therefore, in order to secure their own safety, had to flee the country and endure much adversity.

To Sultán Nazak, who is to-day my companion, I have shown far more respect than the former administrators of the kingdom ever showed [their contemporary Sultáns]. Since [the reign of] Zain-ul-Abidin a few of his offspring have borne the title of ‘king,’ but of authority they have had none.

THE people were [formerly] all Hanifi, but in the reign of Fath Sháh, the father of this Sultán Nádir,^434b a man of the name of Shams came from Tálish in Irák,^435a who gave himself out as a Nurbakhshi. He introduced a corrupt form of religion, giving it the name of Nurbakhshi' and practised many heresies. He wrote a book for these cowardly people called Fikh-i-Ahwat, which does not conform to the teachings of any of the sects, whether Sunni or Shia. [These sectaries] revile the companions of the Prophet and Áisha, as do the Shias, but contrary to the teaching of these latter, they look upon Amir Sayyid Muhammad Nur Bakhshi as the Lord of the Age and the promised Mahdi.

They do not believe in the saints and holy persons in whom the Shias believe, but regard all these as [appertaining to] Sunnis. [Shams] introduced many impious practices and infidel beliefs, and gave his heretical sect the name of ‘Nurbakhshi.’ I have seen many of the Nurbakhshi elders in Badakhshán and elsewhere. I discovered that outwardly they follow the precepts of the Prophet and hold with the Sunnis. One of the sons of this Amir Sayyid Muhammad Nurbakhshi showed me his tract. In it was written: “Sultáns, Amirs and fools [or the ignorant] maintain that worldly power cannot be combined with purity and piety. But this is absolutely false, for the great prophets and apostles, in spite of their missions, have exercised sovereignty, and have likewise striven diligently after those other matters [i.e., purity and piety], as for example Joseph, Moses, David, Solomon and our Prophet.”

Now this is opposed to the belief of the Nurbakhshi of Kashmir, and is in accordance with that of the Sunnis. That book, the Fikh-i-Ahwat, which is celebrated in Kashmir, I sent, complete, to the Ulamá of Hindustán, who repudiated it and wrote on the back of it a decree [fatwá] of remonstrance as follows: “In the name of God the Merciful. Oh! God, show unto us the truth in its reality, and the false, wherein it is void; also show us things as they are. After perusing this book and weighing its contents, it seemed clear [to us] that the author of it was of a false sect, who had gone against the Book and the Sunna, and did not belong to any denomination of the people of Truth. His pretension is that God hath commanded him to do away with all dífferences among the people; (Firstly) in the developments and ordinances of the Holy Law, and to make them as they were in his time, with neither increase nor diminution; and (Secondly) in the fundamental principles among all the peoples of the earth. [In this] he is certainly lying, and inclined to heresy and schism. It is the duty of such as have the power, to obliterate such a book, and a religious necessity for them to stamp out and extirpate this sect; to prohibit persons from following it and acting according to its dogmas. If they persist in their belief and abandon not their false creed, it is necessary for the security of Musulmáns, from their evil example, to repulse them with chastisement and [even] death. If they repent and abandon the sect, they must be commanded to follow the teaching of Abu Hanifa.”

At the present time in Kashmir, the Sufis have legitimatised so many heresies, that they know nothing of what is lawful or unlawful. They consider that piety and purity consist in night-watching and abstinence in food; yet they take and eat whatever they find, without ever considering what is forbidden or what is lawful. They give way to their lusts and desires in a manner not consistent with the law. They are for ever interpreting dreams, displaying miracles, and obtaining from the unseen, information regarding either the future or the past. They prostrate themselves before one another and, together with such disgraceful acts, observe the forty [days of retirement]. They blame and detest science and men of learning; consider the Holy Law second in importance to the True ‘Way,’ and that in consequence the people of the ‘Way’ have nothing to do with the Holy Law. In short, nowhere else is such a band of heretics to be found. May the Most High God defend all the people of Islám from such misfortunes and calamities as this, and turn them all into the true path of righteousness.

Thanks be to God that, at the present time, no one in Kashmir dares openly profess this faith; but all deny it, and give themselves out as good Sunnis. They are aware of my severity towards them, and know that if any one of the sect appears, he will not escape the punishment of death. I hope and trust that through the intervention of God and by my own efforts, the land will gradually be entirely delivered of this misfortune, and that all will become, as they now profess to be, Musulmáns from the bottom of their hearts. Amen! Oh Lord of the two worlds!

There was also a sect of infidels who were Sun-worshippers, called Shammási. Their creed is as follows: “The phenomenon of luminosity of the sun is due to the purity of our faith: and our being is derived from the sun's luminosity. If we defile the purity of our creed the sun would no longer have any existence, and if the sun withdraw its bounty from us, we should no longer have any being. We are dependent on it for our existence, and it on us. Without us it has no existence, without it we have none. As long as the sun is visible, our actions are visible to it, and nothing but uprightness is lawful. When night falls, it does not see us or know us.” Since the sun is not aware of what passes in the night, they cannot be called to account for what they do in the night season. This sect used to be called Shammási… When this Mir Shams appeared in Kashmir and corrupted its people, he bore the title of Shams-ud-Din [Sun of the Faith]. All titles descend from heaven, and the real one must have been Shammás-ud-Din. It has been misunderstood by the Kashmiris, or else they called him Shams-ud-Din by way of reproach. For this reason they called him Mir Shams.

BEFORE entering upon the description of Kashmir, I had brought the thread of my story down to the point where, after passing the defile of Lár without difficulty, we entered the city. The army of Kashmir was dispersed, and the townspeople, forsaking their city and homes, fled towards the hills and glens, leaving their property in their dwellings. I took up my quarters in the Rájdán, which has been mentioned, and entrenched my men within its walls. During many days no trace of any one was visible. For twenty-four days we remained there, by which time the horses and cattle had quite recovered their strength. The army of Kashmir was stationed in the middle of some swamps [lái] at about two farsákhs to the south of the city, where they could be seen. Wise men were of opinion that we ought not to remain within the city, but thought that we should march out and watch for an opportunity to give them battle. For, though the enemy were far stronger than we, both in arms and numbers, we might yet defeat them by strategy. [Couplet] … So, sallying forth from the city, we passed, in line, in sight of the enemy, and went and encamped at a place called Baklata^437a on the east side of Kashmir.

In a word, from that date of Jamád II. till Shabán—that is to say, from the end of autumn till the spring—we avoided the army of Kashmir, who on this account became elated, and grew so bold that, at first, every time we marched on, they halted for some days, finding some strong position from which to oppose us. In the first place they would fortify the position secretly, by every means in their power, and then, advancing in the night, would take up a defensive station in the place [where they halted]. At length they became so [confident] that they would follow after us on the same day that we made a move, without taking any precautions. Finally, in a village called Bágh Navin,^438a after they had advanced fearlessly and had hastened over some level ground, having drawn up my men, I turned and faced them. It would be tedious to enter here into details, but, to be brief, in the twinkling of an eye, the wind of victory began to blow and the enemy were scattered and discomfited …^438b The chief Malik of Kashmir, Malik Ali, together with several other eminent Maliks who were generals and commanders, perished.^438c Those who escaped the sword, fled to the tops of the mountains. Many were wounded, while such as remained unhurt had their hearts broken in two from fear. That night they resolved on flight, lest on the morrow it should be impossible. Their generals were alarmed and stupefied.

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

I allowed myself to be deceived by these devilish promptings and lying suggestions, and decided that on the following morning we should descend with all haste. [Couplet] … At dawn [next day] we started on the downward road. Mir Dáim Ali came to me and said with much severity: “What bitterness have we swallowed that matters should have come to this pass? Now that we have scattered the enemy and have driven him into these hills, you would leave him? Where are you going?” I then hesitated and halted, when Mirzá Ali Taghái, who had marched forward, came back and asked why I had stopped. Mir Dáim Ali then repeated to him what he had said to me. Mirzá Ali Taghái, turning towards me his double-faced countenance, said: “It is childish to alter one's decisions; I maintain my opinion still” [Couplet] … But I, setting aside the wise counsel of the provident Mir Dáim Ali, followed the evil advice of that worthless wretch …^439a

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

Mirzá Ali Taghái, continuing his intrigues, began to point out, and enlarge upon, the enormous difficulties which the conquest of Kashmir would involve. He thus turned the hearts of the whole army from a desire to conquer Kashmir. The only exception was Mir Dáim Ali, upon whom these base reasonings had no effect. All the leaders of the army of the Moghuls …^439b who had been scattered about, and were now re-united, came to Mir Dáim Ali, and with one mind and one accord said, amid much noise and commotion: “Tell a certain person” (by which they meant me) “that we are Moghuls, and we have been continually occupied with the affairs of Moghulistán. The natural solace and joy of the Moghul Ulus is the desert, in which there is no cultivation [ábádáni]. The screeching of the owl in the wilderness is sweeter, to our ear, than the song of the nightingale in the grove. We have never made a cultivated land our home. Our companions have been the ravenous beasts of the mountains, and our associates the wild boars of the desert. Our favourite haunts and our most agreeable dwellings have been the caves in the mountain tops; our clothing the skins of dogs and wild animals, our food the flesh of birds and wild beasts. How can men of our race associate with this besotted band of infidels of Kashmir, which is the garden of Aram—nay more, a specimen of Paradise? It has been said: The idolaters shall not enter Paradise. Moreover, from Kashmir to Káshghar is a long journey, and not only is the distance great, but the difficulties of the road are well nigh insurmountable. There are [to be considered] our families, our baggage, and our flocks and herds. Without flocks we must despair of our lives: separated from our herds we shall have to give up existence, and resign ourselves to death. Therefore, it is better that having ruined the army of Kashmir, we should return to the Khán. If the Khán kills us, our bodies will at least be buried by our own people. If he does not kill us, we will certainly never again draw our bridles towards any other place than Moghulistán.” [Couplet] …

Mir Dáim Ali came to me and reported what had been said. I was astounded at the men's behaviour. [Verse] … It is related that a certain sweeper [kannás] was passing a perfumer's shop, and when the scent got into his head, he fainted away. A doctor, who happened to be present, cried: “Apply some filth to his nose;” and the man immediately came to his senses. [Two couplets] … Finally, I said to Mir Dáim Ali: “[If I make an attempt to complete the conquest of Kashmir], these cowardly men will be eager to do something to shatter the foundations of sovereignty.” Mir Dáim Ali replied: “On our departure, the Khán told us that Mirzá Ali Taghái, in all affairs of the State, considered in the first place, his own advantage, and generally neglected the rest. By this rule he abides, so that in considering his own personal gain, he entirely ignores the necessities of the State …^440a

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

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

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

THE government of Kashmir was, at that time, conducted in the name of Muhammad Sháh. Among the Maliks of Kashmir, after Ali Mir, who was killed [in an engagement with us], there were Abdál Makri, Kájichak, Láhur Makri and Yakchak. When terms of peace were proposed, they were very thankful, but they did not credit [our good faith], wondering how people who had once conquered such a beautiful country, could be so senseless as to give it up.

In a word the Khutba was read and coins were struck in the exalted name of the Khán. The revenue of Kashmir, which was due to the Moghuls, we took. One of Muhammad Sháh's daughters was wedded to Iskandar Sultán. And everyone, according to his rank, formed a connection [mulákát] with one of the Sultáns or Maliks of Kashmir. I, for example, became connected with Muhammad Sháh, and in accordance with the Moghul practice we called each other “friend.” Similar [relations] were established between Mir Dáim Ali and Abdul Makri; Mirzá Ali Taghái and Láhur Makri; Bábá Sárik Mirzá and Kájichak; my uncle's son Mahmud Mirzá (who will be mentioned below) and Yakchak. Numerous presents and offerings were interchanged.^441a

At the end of Shawál we set out again by way of Lár, as we had come. On reaching the frontiers of Tibet many of the inhabitants hastened out to receive us, bringing presents and flocks. But Karsa,^442a which is a district of Tibet, contains a valley, which is as narrow as a miser's heart, and in it is a very deep ravine, forming a Iofty rampart wall, which seemed beyond the realms of possibility to pass. So narrow indeed was the road, that on the brightest day the darkness of night prevailed there. Trusting to this valley, which they considered no human being could take, they were refractory and refused to pay the tribute [demanded of them]. We encamped there at the noontide prayer-hour. During the night all were engaged in making preparations for an assault. At dawn next day^442b all the warriors raised a shout, and made ready to fight. In short, fierce fighting ensued. More than once the Musulmán forces were driven back by blows, or by rocks which were rolled [down the sides of the ravine], but each time they again made fast the skirt of valour in the girdle of endeavour, and kept a firm footing on the hill-side of holy war! Finally the infidels were routed and most of them perished;^442c those who escaped the edge of the sword fled like chaff before the wind. All their women, children and families fell a portion to the victorious army. The rest of the infidels were filled with the utmost alarm.

To save their own lives and those of their children, they came and delivered up whatever they possessed. All the property of the province of Purik, which is one of the most important in Tibet, was collected together and distributed among the Amirs and soldiers of our army. Having selected a few curiosities and rarities for the Khán, we set out for Máryul.

ON my return from the war, I was most affectionately welcomed by the Khán, who embraced me and showed his abundant regard for me in every way.^443a After these demonstrations, the Khán questioned me concerning the particulars of the campaign. I told him what I have herein written down. When I arrived at the end of my recital, the Khán said: “Hitherto no one of the conquering Khákáns, from the time of Chingiz Khán to the present day, has laid the hand of dominion upon the collar of Kashmir. But now, by your laudable and strenuous efforts, the pulpits of Kashmir have been decorated with the titles of the Moghul Khákáns. The Sultáns of Kashmir, who in former times owed allegiance to none, and the governors who were dependent on them alone, are now subject to the Moghul Kháns. For this mighty achievement, not only I, but all the Moghul Khákáns owe you a debt of gratitude, as do also my nobles, and especially my own children, for whom such a glorious name has been won.”

By order of the Khán, I left the army and entered his [personal] service. On the next day, the rest of the Amirs and Iskandar Sultán had the honour of waiting on the Khán. I laid before the Khán, as offerings, some valuables from Kashmir and some coins both silver and gold, which had been struck in his name, together with other treasures which I had brought back from the various countries. All of these he graciously deigned to accept, and, according to the custom, distributed them [among his men].

These formalities being terminated, he summoned a council of all the great Amirs and nobles. Each one spoke as his feelings prompted him. Having listened to these speeches, the Khán pondered for a while and then said to me: “You well know that it has always been my ardent desire and earnest intention to conduct the holy wars in person. I am resolved on the destruction of the idol-temple of Ursang, which is the point of adoration of the whole of Khitái. Now, this has never been achieved by any Musulmán king; not one of them, indeed, has ever been near the place. My health will not withstand such an undertaking.^443b I have come to the end of my strength, and since I have this feeling of weakness, which is apparent from my exterior, I desire you to commend me to the protection of God, and full of earnestness and religious fervour, to hasten to destroy that temple. I will meanwhile return to my loved home, leaving the whole of the administration in your hands. Let me and your uncle, who have both grown old, retire to the corner of devotion, which is a haven of repose, while you take upon yourself the affairs of the State. We will help you with our prayers for your welfare; you will benefit us by your good actions.”

After this lengthy speech, he issued a mandate of the following purport, viz.: “Mirzá Haidar had been elected. He may take with him whomsoever he chooses. Those who accompany him are subject to his commands and not to mine.”^444a When this mandate had been promulgated, I gave the great Amirs leave to return home. I then chose to accompany me, my brother Abdullah Mirzá and my uncle's son Mahmud Mirzá. I set in command of the army Janaka Mirzá and Bahrika Mirzá, who were both mentioned in the lists [muster roll] at Káshghar. From the rest of the soldiers I selected 2000 men. I then turned my attention to this matter [the invasion of Ursang], and before the [preparations] were completed, six days of Zulhijja were past. This was the extent of my attendance [on the Khán].

On the day of leave-taking, the Khán sent for me privately, and bestowed on me, as gifts, all the royal clothing he had at hand, besides some horses. In addition he gave me a belt and a sheath containing several knives, both of which he had devised himself. He gave these to me with his own hands, saying: “These I have acquired myself, I entrust them to you as a keepsake. If you return in safety, and find me still among the living, you can return them to me. They are a deposit. But if anything should occur which should separate us for ever, you can keep them as a remembrance of me.” I thanked him greatly for his kindness; but the reins of self-control fell from my hands, and my extreme grief and sorrow caused the humidity, which lay in the recesses of my heart, to pour forth by way of my eyes: I was much affected. The Khán, in his kindness of heart, began to comfort me, and after he had in a measure succeeded in quieting my mind, I said to him: “What heart would be strong enough to be consoled after hearing such words as yours? Allow me to accompany you as far as your capital, Yárkand. When I have seen you seated on your happy throne, I will then return to my own duties; in the meanwhile the rest of the army can pasture their cattle in one of the grazing grounds of Tibet.”

But the Khán replied: “It is not wise to despise difficult undertakings. You have misunderstood what I said to you. [My meaning was that there is no living person who does not doubt whether he will remain in the world, or whether he will not taste of the wine of death]; nor is this dependent on an illness. I am not exempt from the hand of fate. Even though I reach Yárkand in safety, I am not secure from death. Since our separation is likely to be of long duration, and since no man can hear what is said, I have taken this opportunity of speaking to you. What I have said to you I have said, and I do not think that your accompanying me and then returning, is compatible with what I have arranged.^445a In every circumstance one must look to God. Everything must be entrusted to Him. I consign you to God, and I hope that we may meet again in Yárkand. Be strong of heart and energetic! The great name you have won by the conquest of Kashmir will be magnified by this expedition.” Having uttered these words he allowed me to depart, and himself set out on the return journey.

But the ill-advised nobles, foremost among whom was Mirzá Ali Taghái, mounted the Khán, in his weak condition, upon his horse, and then started with all speed, supporting him on every side. As it is dangerous [with this malady] to remain in an upright position, it would have been proper to construct a litter. But these Amirs excused themselves for not making one, on the ground that it could not be carried over the passes. [Verse]… They made eight days' journey in four, and at eventide prayers they arrived within three farsákhs of a stage where dam-giri is less prevalent. There, suddenly, the Khán's strength gave way before the violence of his malady, and his nature became utterly exhausted by that hell-tainted climate.^446b Thus did the pure soul of that noble-minded and just ruler hasten to the regions of the blessed. [Three couplets]… This awful and heartrending event happened on the 16th of Zulhijja in the year 939 [9 July, 1533]. After this calamity many terrible and strange things came about, of which I shall speak presently.

The life of the Khán, his noble character and worthy qualities have already been fully described in these pages: but although an account of the whole of his life is contained in this history, the context has rendered it necessary to give the facts in a somewhat disjointed and scattered manner. I will therefore add here a brief recapitulation. His genealogy is as follows: Abul Fath Sultán Said Khán Gházi, was son of Sultán Ahmad Khán, son of Yunus Khán, son of Shir Ali Khán,^447a son of Muhammad Khán, son of Khizir Khwája Khán, son of Tughluk Timur Khán. The descent of Tughluk Timur Khán from Japhet, the son of Noah, is traced in both the Mujma ut Tavárikh and in the Prolegomena to the Zafar-Náma, and God willing, the details shall be given in the first part [of this history]; I will therefore avoid repeating it [in this place].

He was born in Moghulistán in the year 892 [1487]. He received his name from his distinguished grandfather, Yunus Khán. Up to the age of fourteen he remained in Moghulistán, under the care and guidance of his father. But when Sultán Ahmad Khán went to Táshkand to meet his brother Sultán Mahmud Khán, he took the [young] Khán with him. On the occasion when the battle took place between Sháhi Beg Khán and the two brothers, at Akhsi, in which the Kháns were defeated, the [young] Khán being wounded, fell into the hands of Shaikh Báyazid, who was Governor of Akhsi. As was shown above, there was but an insincere alliance between Shaikh Báyazid and Sháhi Beg Khán. [Shaikh Báyazid] detained the Khán in prison one year, but the following year Sháhi Beg Khán came and put Shaikh Báyazid, and his brother Tambal, to death, and conquered the province of Farghána. He next released the Khán from his confinement in Akhsi, and took him with him on the expedition which resulted in the capture of Hisár and Kunduz. On his return from that expedition, [Sháhi Beg] set out to attack the Khwárizin.

The Khán, who was then sixteen years of age, having, together with seventeen other persons, escaped from Samarkand, went and joined his uncle, Sultán Mahmud Khán, in Moghulistán. Finally, fleeing after one of the contests in Moghulistán, he repaired to Andiján, where the governor, who was subject to Sháhi Beg Khán, threw him into prison, with the intention of putting him to death; but escaping thence, he took refuge with his cousin, Bábar Pádisháh, in Kábul. When the Emperor marched again upon Hisár, with the purpose of subduing Mávará-un-Nahr, he sent the Khán to Andiján. On reaching this place, it was given up to him by my uncle, who entered his service. When the Uzbeg a second time became masters of Mávará-un-Nahr, the Khán abandoned Andiján and went to Káshghar, which he took by force of arms, and there he reigned absolute during twenty years. At the end [of his reign] he undertook a holy war against Tibet, where, in the year 939, he died of dam-giri at the age of forty-seven.

He was a Hanifi by descent. In his youth he was addicted to forbidden pleasures, and little inclined towards laudable and becoming pursuits. On attaining the age of thirty-seven, he renounced all unlawful enjoyments and betook himself to a religious life, under the guidance of Hazrat Makhdumi Khwája Shaháb-ul-Millat wa ud-Din, better known as Khwája Khávand Mahmud. He devoted all his attention and thought to this noble course, fasting by day and watching by night.^448a In all his private gatherings little else was discussed but religious matters, and by these conferences he was much influenced. Justice had a strong hold over his mind, and in all his affairs he conformed with the Holy Law, never tiring of its observances, but rather delighting in them. He referred most questions to the spiritual courts [dár ush-shar] for settlement.

He had the greatest reverence for the Ulama. For this he was much blamed by the Sultáns of the day; but he answered them saying: “It is fitting to honour and exalt those of my own rank: these people, considering their station in life, cannot claim equality with the humblest of my servants, but I reverence them on account of their knowledge. Whether they are great or whether they are humble [in station, makes no difference], I regard only their learning. No reproach can be levelled at me for this. Those who honour the man for his learning, and not the learning [for its own sake] commit an act of folly.”^448b He treated Sufis and pious men as brothers, and they never overstepped the bounds of propriety with him [though there was no ceremony between him and them]. Thoughts of sovereignty and royal dignity never entered his head. he was equally polite to all; and although he upheld the dignity of the royal state, he observed an attitude of affability beyond all conception.

I was twenty-four years in his service, and do not remember ever having heard him use abusive or obscene language to an inferior. If any of the slaves in his attendance committed an offence worthy of punishment or reproof, he would frown, but keep his temper and say very little. If he did speak and wished to use abusive language, he never went beyond calling any one “unclean” or “carrion,” and if he spoke in Turki he said much the same.

When this message reached my uncle, he was filled with emotion and alarm. He performed the proper ceremonies of mourning, and set out from Káshghar for Yarkand. As it was the season of Asad and the heat was excessive, the Khán's remains were brought in and buried, as quickly as possible, in a chamber of the palace [Diván-khána ]. In the meanwhile, my uncle arrived from Káshghar. Having paid a visit of condolence to the ladies of [the late Khán's] haram, he performed similar duties with respect to the rest of the household. All the Amirs who were on the spot, came and begged my uncle for a compact or treaty. First of all, in the presence of this body of grandees, Ulama and Amirs, he promised that their interests should be attended to even better than they had been in the lifetime of the late Khán. They, on their part, professed their allegiance to him by means of the strongest and most solemn oaths. “We too,” [they said] “will, even more than in times past, show our loyalty and singleness of purpose.” In particular, Mirzá Ali Taghái was profuse in his protestations of devotion and sincerity.

Having satisfied their minds on these points, they turned their attention to the raising up of Abdur Rashid Sultán as the new Khán, and plans were suggested for his installation. These having been settled in the most satisfactory manner, they only awaited the arrival of Rashid Sultán. It was the last day of Zul-hijja when news of his arrival was received. My uncle sent forward the grandees to meet him, and made every preparation for a royal and dignified reception. “But,” he said, “it is not proper that he should make his entry on the last day of the month and of the year, and on a Wednesday. To-night he had better remain in the suburbs, and to-morrow, Thursday, the first of Moharram, and the beginning of the year 940, he should enter the town.” This plan was decided upon and the Amirs went forward.

But Mirzá Ali Taghái went privately, and said to [Rashid Sultán]:—“As the Khán's honour is in my keeping, I feel it my duty to tell him of a scheme now being laid, which was proposed to myself and the Amirs by Sayyid Muhammad Mirzá. I would lay it before you now, in order that timely measures may be taken to check it. The promise he exacted from us was, that as soon as Rashid Sultán arrived, we should lay him by his father's side, and that we should set upon the throne of the Khánate, Iskandar Sultán, who is in Tibet.” Such lies as these he not only invented, but impressed in such a way [on Rashid Sultán] that [the latter] saw no good reason for doubting him. On the morning of Thursday, the first of Moharram 940, Rashid Sultán set out towards his father's tomb. My uncle, clothed in mourning, [two couplets] … was seated by the [late] Khán's grave. As Rashid Sultán rode up to the door of the house, my uncle came forward, his vest rent open, his beard torn, his black turban thrown upon the ground, and on his shoulders black felt [two couplets], … uttering moans and laments. Rashid Sultán [immediately] ordered his men to seize him, which they did from either side, and let fall upon his Musulmán neck, a non-Musulmán sword —severing his head from his body. Ali Sayyid, likewise, who has been mentioned in several places, attained the degree of martyr.

Having murdered these two unfortunates, he dismounted and advanced to the head of his father's tomb. Thence, he went and paid a visit of condolence to the ladies of the haram. Meanwhile, he sent Mirzá Ali Taghái to Káshghar to put to death my uncle's children, Husain Mansur, son of Sayyid Muhammad Mirzá, and Sultán Muhammad Mirzá, son of Mirzá Abá Bakr, and also the son of Sayyid Mahmud; none of these three had attained the age of twenty. He spared no act of insult or violence [towards those who were left alive—namely, the wives and families of my uncle]. Thus were my uncle's faithful and devoted services to Rashid Sultán, rewarded with murder and violence, and those solemn oaths and binding compacts which they had mutually sworn to, consumed like blood-money.^451a [Couplet]… It is a practice among [some] nations to do honour to their dead, by sacrificing the choicest of their flocks and the best of their cattle. Rashid Sultán, on his father's demise, put to death my uncle, his children and Ali Sayyid: that is to say, he sacrificed them. [Two couplets]…

After he had killed my uncle, and had ill-treated [his family], he went on to offer such insults and indignities to the haram of his noble father, as modesty prevents me from describing. Mauláná Sharaf-ud-Din Ali Yazdi, in the Zafar-Náma, describes the misdeeds of Sultán Khalil Mirzá, one of the grandsons of Amir Timur, who succeeded his grandfather on the throne of Samarkand. This passage I have copied exactly into this place. Certainly, with the exception of Sultán Khalil Mirzá, no one but Rashid Sultán has practised such tyranny and wrong. These matters being somewhat delicate to relate, I have copied out the passage in order to give some idea of this lamentable affair. The evident intention of Sharaf-ud-Din Ali Yazdi, in mentioning these hideous deeds, was that his readers and men of note might be warned to avoid criminal acts, and practise works of righteousness.^451b

Rashid Sultán did not stop here, but also subjected to every kind of harsh treatment and insult, his aunts, who were members of my haram, and the mother of the children of Sháh Muhammad Sultán, who have been mentioned above on various occasions, and will be spoken of again in their proper place. The mother of the children of Sháh Muhammad Sultán is Khadija Sultán, a full sister to the late Khán. Though she was suffering from hectic fever and dropsy, and confined to her bed, he banished her and her children into Badakhshán, but ere she could arrive, she died on the road, after undergoing a thousand trials and hardships. Her children, Ismail Sultán, Ishák Sultán, Yakub Sultán, and Muhtarima Khánim—some in infancy, some still at the breast, desolate and friendless exiles—were sent to Kábul, where they were received with fatherly kindness by Timur Sultán, who has been mentioned as being in Hind, in the service of Kámrán Mirzá. He undertook the entire charge of his sister's sons.

Ismail Sultán perished in the wars in Hindustán. Yakub Sultán died a natural death. Muhtarima Khánim was, by my agency, married to Kámrán Mirza, as will be related; Ishák Sultán, also through my influence, is still with Kámrán.

HE was son of Ali Mirák, son of Darvish Husain Barlás. During the Khán's sojourn in the province of Farghána, on the occasion of the release of Rashid Sultán from the captivity of the Uzbeg, and when he rejoined his father, the latter appointed Ghuri Barlás, Muhammadi's uncle, to be [Rashid's] Atá Beg. But about the same time, Ghuri Barlás died a natural death. The office of Atá Beg was then, quite properly, conferred upon Ali Mirák Barlás. A few years after the reduction of Káshghar, Ali Mirák Barlás went on a holy war to Tibet, and the office of Atá Beg to Rashid Sultán, descended by inheritance, to Muhammadi. Soon after this, Rashid Sultán was brought into Moghulistán. The Amirship over all, was given to Mirzá Ali Taghái, while the affairs of the Kirghiz were placed under the control of Muhammad Kirghiz. Muhammadi was likewise in the service of Rashid Sultán, as has been explained.

Ali Mirák Barlás was my uncle's maternal uncle, by reason of which connection, my uncle and I used every effort to further his interests. But Mirzá Ali Taghái was not friendly towards him. Without showing it, he was afraid that my uncle's intentions were evil and his devotion insincere. On [Muhammadi's] account, Mirzá Ali Taghái's dislike for my uncle increased, while Muhammadi, on every occasion, sought to defend my uncle. At length, Sháh Muhammad Sultán was killed by [Muhammadi]. It has been mentioned above, how the Khánims and the heirs of the dead man, were bent on retaliating by the death of Muhammadi, and how my uncle and I rescued him from that calamity. This produced bitterness against me on the part of my maternal aunts, their children and my other relations. All this [hostility] was encountered for the sake of Muhammadi.

The atrocities which took place after the death of the Khán, the murders, the violence, all [seemed to be the working of Mirzá Ali Taghái]. Though Mirzá Ali Taghái used all his influence, yet without the sanction of [Muhammadi], Rashid Sultán would never have committed such scandalous acts. In fact [Muhammadi's] influence for evil was greater [than Mirzá Ali Taghái's], and his control over Rashid Sultán's mind was so great, that the latter did whatever he told him, however “infidel” the action might be. All these lying tales and unrighteous deeds were for the sake of [Muhammadi]. The ladies of the Khán's haram—Rashid Sultán's [step-] mothers—were pressed to marry Muhammadi, and those who did not yield, he went so far, in his resentment, as to plunder and expel. But he did not see fit that the mates of the humá should become the co-mates of the crows.

His own sister Badi-ul-Jamál Khánim had been engaged to Báush Sultán, son of Adik Sultán, the Uzbeg Kazák. When he [Rashid Sultán], in alliance with the Uzbeg Shaibán, routed the Uzbeg Kazák, Báush Sultán, because of his position as son-inlaw, and relying on this [for safety], came forward to meet Rashid Sultán, who threatened to put him to death if he did not at once divorce Badi-ul-Jamál Khánim. Having taken her from this chief, who was worthy of the alliance, he gave her to Muhammadi, whose ancestors had never attained to a dignity nearly so great. This act was a complete breach of propriety: for a peasant was treated as of equal rank with a prince. But Rashid Sultán disregarded everything, and brought disgrace upon his own house. He could not distinguish a man endowed with reason, from a brute beast. Still the most infamous thing of all, was taking her from a worthy man and giving her to an unworthy one. Such a deed is quite unheard of.

[Muhammadi's] influence over Rashid Sultán was without limit, but the reason for it was never apparent. It did not lie in the merit of past services, nor in his intelligence and sagacity as an Amir; nor yet in eloquence in council, nor in affable manners or good breeding, nor in vivacious humour at feasts, nor in courage in battle, nor in grace or charm of bearing. [Verses] … All that he said and did, was tainted with falsehood and evil. In short, all the unworthy deeds of Rashid Sultán are to be traced to him. We have nothing further to blame Rashid Sultán for, than that he allowed himself, on every occasion, to be guided by Muhammadi. There has lately come a report that Muhammadi has bidden this life farewell. If it is true, it is not unlikely that Rashid Sultán will grasp the reins of rectitude, and renouncing his evil ways, will repent him fully. Amen. Oh Lord of the two worlds!

WHEN the Khán set out for Yarkand, I took leave of him, and in the first ten days^454a of Zulhijja of the year 939, after keeping the feast of the Sacrifice in Máryul, I set out to destroy the idol-temple of Ursang. After marching for twenty days in that part of Tibet, we found no signs of infidels, except a few fortresses. These were so strongly situated and fortified, that they could only have been taken with great difficulty, and the gain was not worth the pain. Leaving behind Iskandar Sultán, my brother Abdullah Mirzá and my cousin Mahmud Mirza, together with the heavy baggage and the tired beasts of burden, I took the strongest and freshest of the horses with me, and started in all haste.

On the first of Safar we reached a place called Bármáng. Here we found some of the Chámpa people of Tibet, whom we plundered; nearly 300,000 sheep fell to the lot of our victorious army, besides prisoners, horses and goods, in proportion. For the completion of our desires, and the satisfaction of our necessities, we halted in a suitable pasture land, to rest and refresh our horses; by this means we afforded Iskandar Sultán, Abdullah Mirzá and Mahmud Mirzá, time to overtake and rejoin us. But while I had hastened forward, they had followed leisurely, and on the first of Moharram 940, they had approached one of the abovementioned fortresses, which was called Kárdun.

The despicable men [in the fortress] being reduced to extremities, applied for aid to one of the Rai of Hindustán, who sent 3,000 Hindu Katará-dar infantry^454b [men armed with short swords]. [Couplet …]. Iskandar Sultán and my brothers advanced with 200 men, to give them battle, but they pushed forward so rapidly that only a few of the 200 kept up with them. My brother, Abdullah Mirzá, was a daring youth, and had already distinguished himself in the Khán's service in Balti, where having gained the juldu, he was respected by all the army. Elated and animated by this distinction, and without reflection, he neglected to await the main body, but advancing with only three men, threw himself into the middle of the 3,000. He was dismounted, but at this juncture my cousin Mahmud Mirzá came up with four men. Seeing his brother [cousin?] in this plight, he too made a daring charge, and saved his brother from imminent danger; whereupon the latter again returned to the charge, only to be a second time dismounted. At this moment five of the bravest warriors arrived on the scene, and seeing the two brothers so hard pressed, they charged the enemy; but by this time my brother, Abdullah, had been cut in pieces—so completely that each separate part of his cuirass and coat was in the possession of some infidel. [Four couplets] … I repeated the verse, “Verily unto God do we return.”

I halted for some days in that pasture-ground, until the beasts were rested and refreshed. I then sent back all the booty that had fallen into our hands, and having chosen out 900 men from the army, set forth with them for Ursang. From Máryul of Tibet to that place is two months' journey. After one month's journey, one comes to a spot where a lake is situated; it is forty farsákhs in circumference, and on its shores there is a castle, which is called Luk-u-Labuk. We halted there for the night; the next morning we found all our horses had died, except a few that were half dead—groaning and writhing [with pain]. Thus of my own twenty-seven horses, only one was, on that morning, in a sound condition, two others were dying, and the remaining twenty-four were dead. The cause [of their death] was the dam-giri, which has been described above.

When we left that place, [only] a fifth part of the army were mounted, all the rest proceeded on foot. On the second day we plundered the province of Ham [or Hari]. The people of that place assert that it is twenty-four days' journey into Bangála. Many captives were taken by us. Those of our army who were mounted on serviceable horses, only numbered ninety men. With these ninety, I advanced and plundered a place called Askábrak. About 100,000 sheep, 20,000 kutás and a proportionate number of prisoners and horses, fell into our hands. There remained eight days' journey from Askábrak to Ursang. However, the horses of our party being entirely broken down, we were obliged to turn back. Six days later, we reunited and set out on our return. This took place on the 8th of Rabi II. On the last day of Jamád II. we overtook the party that had been sent back with the booty and plunder, at a place called Támlik, which is twenty days' journey from Máryul.^456a

The Guga people came and represented to us that Guga was the chief district of Tibet; they were willing to pay any capitation tax which I might impose, in accordance with the extent and wealth of the country; I therefore proceeded to Guga, where I arrived in two marches from Támlik. I was received by the people in the most respectful, obedient, and hospitable way. After staying there three days, and fixing the levy at 3,000 Tibetan mithkáls (one of which is equal to one and a half statute mithkál) I returned, and on the road heard of the dispersion [virán] of my army, which I will speak of immediately.

There yet remained with me more than a hundred men; these were all brave soldiers or commanders of battalions, whose service was hereditary, who had often distinguished themselves in battle, and had won juldus; each one also had been born to the title of Amir. Some of them were my [foster]-brothers, and were called [by me] Kukildásh; from these I had no reason to expect opposition. But on the morrow I discovered that all my trusted men had disappeared, like the stars at dawn.

After the sun had lit up the earth's dark surface, Ján Ahmad Ataka, who has been already mentioned as my foster-brother, came to me with a certain Sháh Muhammad, a Kukildásh, and one of the most distinguished of that band. With them they brought five followers. Thus was the fear of loneliness dispelled. After a while, Iskandar Sultán and my cousin Mahmud came back, and having collected about fifty men we proceeded towards Máryul. It was the beginning of the season of Capricorn, and the commencement of winter-time. [Couplet]… The cold was so intense that were I to describe it, I should be accused of word-painting. Out of those fifty men, more than forty had either hands or feet, or nose or ears, taken off by the cold [frost-bitten]. Sustaining such fatigues and sufferings as these, at the end of twenty-five days we reached Máryul. The Chui of Máryul, named Táshikun and Lata Jughdán, who have been mentioned in a few places already, hastened out to wait upon us. Since we had [on a former occasion] treated them with violence, both plundering and killing [their people], I was inwardly in great fear of them. But contrary to my apprehensions, they showed their willingness to assist us in every way, and even proffered excuses, saying: “For four hundred years, from father to son, we have been the subjects and you the king; we the slave, you the master; if in the days of your glory and greatness we were alarmed and trangressed, we met with our due retribution at your hands. At that time the Chui of Tibet submitted to and obeyed you, solely from fear. But now we offer our services, out of attachment to you, and in all sincerity.” [Verses.]

They gave us the castle of Shaya, which is the capital of Máryul.^460a In Shaya we took the opportunity to recover [from our fatigues], and here, some of the army who had stayed behind, now rejoined us. Among them was Maulána Darvish Muhammad Kará Tágh, one of the attendants of Khwája Muhammad Yusuf, who has been mentioned above. This Mauláná Darvish Muhammad was a pious and devoted Musulmán. He knew the Tibetan language remarkably well, and enjoyed the entire confidence of all the Chui of Tibet. He was thus able to settle all our affairs with them in a satisfactory way.

From Kashmir there came a certain man named Háji, who attached himself to my service; he will be mentioned frequently hereinafter; our party now numbered more than sixty persons.

But the disbanded army, as it advanced, began to suffer from the change in the season; so much so, that most of the men were unable to proceed, while those who attempted to go on, lost all their effects. Nearly one hundred and fifty men died from exposure to the cold. The rest arrived in a half-dead state at Yárkand. Another party, turning back, reached Máryul in a helpless condition. Thus a body numbering five hundred men was again assembled, together with about 10,000 sheep. [For a time] we enjoyed a complete rest.

Before reaching Máryul, I sent forward Ján Ahmad Ataka and Sháh Muhammad Kukildásh, to Rashid Sultán in Yárkand, with many gifts from the spoil we had taken in our last expedition. I also wrote him a few lines, reminding him of our ancient bonds of friendship, and sent him as proof thereof, some old tokens we had interchanged. A dark coloured Arab pustin, and a steel báluka, both of which Rashid Sultán had given me, I now sent back to him, just as they were [ba-jins]. [Verses] …

Towards the close of that winter Rashid Sultán sent Bidakan, son of my foster-brother Ján Ahmad Ataka, accompanied by Hasan Divána, to bear to me messages of apology and expressions of repentance. His past behaviour [he admitted] had been due to his ignorance, and was a cause for shame in this world and the next. He now frankly begged the forgiveness of his dear friend. He had sent Mauláná Kudásh with two hundred men, for my service. All those of my following who had gone over to him, might now return to me; no one should hinder them. He also sent me some horses and other gifts. I was not a little encouraged by these messages, and most of Tibet submitted.

In the meanwhile Mauláná Kudásh arrived, bringing with him some of my chief retainers. Being reinforced by this band, we marched for Bálti, which touches the confines of Kashmir. All Bálti paid the appointed tax in kind, without hesitation or delay. Suru is a department of Bálti, and its chief defence and stronghold. Mauláná Kudásh asked permission from me to go and impose a levy upon Suru, but I would not consent to this, knowing that those infidels would not be willing to let any one visit their districts and valleys.^461a [Indeed the people of Suru] begged that [no one might come]. “Whatever amount is due,” [they said], “that we will ourselves bring to the camp where you now are; there is no need for you to come [to us].” However, when the fowler of destiny places the grain of earthly desire in the net of fate, not even a bird of wisdom can escape from that net. [Couplet]… But Kudásh, not accepting my refusal, was so importunate in his demands that I at last sanctioned his going, and he set forth. The people of Suru put him to death in a narrow pass, together with twenty-four worthy men who were with him; they were subjected to a hundred ignominies, and were unable to strike a blow. Although our force numbered some seven hundred men, yet, on account of our poverty and want of arms, we were unable to avenge him. [Three couplets]…

Leaving Bálti, we set out towards a province in Tibet called Zangskar. The crops had, as yet, attained no height; harvest time was not yet come, when we arrived. While we were waiting for the harvest, that we might divide the crops, one of the Chui of Bálti, named Tangi Sakáb, who had in the past rendered us useful services, came and told us that the time had come to go and attack the murderers of Kudásh, that is to say, the people of Suru. “You can go and pillage their country,” [he said], “carry off their women and take vengeance on their men.”

Some of those who had lost their strength, were at once despatched to Máryul, in order that the strong men among us might proceed with all speed. I sent my cousin to escort the party [going to Máryul], as one day's march of that journey was very dangerous. He was to see them [safely] through this part of the road. At night he encamped there. As the place was dangerous, he kept his horse by him all through the night. During his sleep, the horse, while grazing, kicked him so hard on the forehead as to fracture his skull [making a wound] the size of the hoof. On the next day he came to me and showed me his wound. According to the practice of Moghul surgeons, I broke the bone [again], and seizing the edge of it, applied remedies. I then sent to tell Tangi Sakáb what I had done. He sent back answer: “Since your coming would involve no little difficulty, [you had better] send me a small contingent to take Suru. We will send you a fifth part of all that falls into our hands. This also would be an acceptable service.”

Between Zangskar, where I was dwelling, and Sut,^462a the home of Tangi Sakáb, is five days' journey. I sent [to Tangi Sakáb], seventy men under the command of Mauláná Darvish Muhammad Kará Tágh, who enjoyed the entire confidence of the Chui of Tibet, and Nur Ali Divána, one of the most promising young soldiers, and who had turned back to rejoin me. Nearly two months were passed in exchange of messages before a decision was arrived at. Mahmud Mirzá's wound had opened afresh, and it became quite impossible for him to remain in Zangskar, on account of the severity of the weather. So I was obliged to send him back to Máryul, while I remained in Zangskar, in order that, as soon as he had reached Máryul in safety, I might myself proceed to Suru, where I hoped to find some means of existence. When Mahmud reached the spot where he had received the kick from his horse, he halted for the night, and on the morrow, as he was about to mount, he exposed his head to apply the dressing. The cold got into the wound and, fainting away, he became insensible. At noontide prayers a person came and informed me of his condition. I at once set out in all haste to see him. I arrived at midnight and found him unconscious. On the following day he came to himself and entirely recovered consciousness. The next day also, he was conscious, but on the third day he began to talk incoherently, and two nights later he died.^463a

Meanwhile a messenger arrived from the party which I had despatched against Suru, saying that Nur Ali Divána, in company with his companions and Mauláná Kará Tágh, had gone to attack Bághán, who was a Chui of the provinces of Tibet. Mauláná Darvish Muhammad having enticed him into a place [apart], they exchanged blows, and at length Bághán, being mortally wounded, they made a present of that infidel to the Musulmáns, and taking leave, proceeded to Yárkand.^463b That infidel killed the Mauláná by transfixing him with a stick. Thus the Suru expedition came to nothing. Having conveyed Mahmud's body to Máryul, I sent it on thence to Káshghar [to be buried in the tomb] of his forefathers. These events happened in the beginning of the season of Scorpio. It was at the commencement of the cold season of Tibet, that we went to Máryul. That winter, until spring came round, we passed in such a manner that, were I to describe our sufferings, I should be suspected of exaggeration.

On the return of spring, seventy persons were sent with the horses, to a place called Utluk—a ravine [mughára] famous in all Tibet for the richness of its crops. I spent the interim in hunting the wild ass and the wild kutás, and then returned. On my departure, I had left Iskandar Sultán in Máryul with a body of men. When we had once again reassembled, the horses had grown fat and strong, but our men, unable to support the pressure of misfortune and trial, all at once dispersed and went off to Yárkand; only fifty of them stayed behind, the rest all fled. At this juncture Ján Ahmad Ataka, whom, two years previously (on my return from the Ursang expedition) I had sent to Rashid Sultán (as was mentioned), came back from Yárkand, bringing the orders that we were to stay no longer in Tibet. Hitherto my reason for lingering in Tibet had been, that if of my own choice I moved to some other place, I should be accused of breaking my engagement. He [Rashid Sultán], however, while outwardly pretending to be upright, had broken this engagement, which he had sworn to with the most solemn oaths, and now, disregarding every [honourable] consideration, ordered me to take flight. [Verses]… No sooner had Ján Ahmad Ataka delivered his message, than I set out for Badakhshán.

I MENTIONED above that out of my force of 700 men, only fifty remained with me. The rest all got away to Yárkand, as best they could. It has also been already observed, that the difficulties of travelling in Tibet are due to the scarcity of provender and the terrible severity of the cold, while the roughness of the paths is almost beyond conception. We were without a proper supply of clothing and food, and more particularly of horse-shoes, which are above all things indispensable on those roads; our horses were few, and were in a broken condition. To remain in Tibet, therefore, became impossible; while to leave it was difficult. However, if to stay and to go were both attended by obstacles, there was at least hope in the latter course; to it we might look for a termination of our troubles, but we could foresee none if we determined to stay. [Verse]… [The routes] to Kashmir, Káshghar, Turfán, and Hindustán were all equally impossible. The road to Badakh-shán was the only one that offered any hope of safety.

No one of us had ever travelled from Tibet to Badakhshán, excepting by way of Káshghar. But among those who had deserted and fled to Yárkand, was a certain man named Jahán Sháh. He once related that he had heard from the people of the mountain districts of Yárkand, that from a place called Tágh Nák,^464a

there was a bye-path leading to the Pamirs of Badakhshán. I had inquired the particulars of him. By that unknown road we now advanced. “Can one travel by a road one has never seen and knows not?” Of the fifty persons who had remained with me many, from want of strength, stayed behind in Tibet.

I moved off finally, with twenty-seven men. [We suffered much] from want of supplies for the journey—from the weakness of the beasts of burden, from the difficulties of the road and from the cold. For although it was now the season of Virgo, the cold was so severe, that at a place we came to called Kara Kuram, as the sun sank, the river (which is a large one) froze over so completely, that wherever one might break the ice, not a drop of water was forthcoming. ^465a We continued our efforts [to obtain water] until bedtime prayers. The horses that had travelled all day over dam-giri ground, arriving at a stage where there was neither water nor grass, refused to eat the little barley that was left (and which we now gave them) because they had not drunk. Ján Ahmad Ataka said: “I remember once noticing a spring at about half a farsákh's distance from here.” He indicated a spot in the middle of the ice, where we had to cut a hole; this time there was water, and we gave the horses to drink. There was one mare [hajr] among them, the strongest of all the beasts, whose teeth, from want of water, became so tightly locked together, that in spite of every exertion she could not drink, and therefore died.^465b The baggage which she had carried was thus left behind. This will give some idea of the intensity of the cold. [Verse.] …

When, after much hardship, we reached the spot where the untried road to Badakhshán branched off, Iskandar Sultán came to ask my permission to make his way to Rashid Sultán, saying: “Perhaps his brotherly affection will induce him to take pity on me, and cause him to heal the wounds which have hitherto cut him off from his relations.” I replied: “Your brother is certainly not a man of his word, as his actions testify. Good faith is the first duty of a Musulmán; but he is so entirely under the evil influence of Muhammadi, that you need never expect mercy at his hands.” [Quatrain] … With such words did I attempt to dissuade him, but he, being worn out with the sufferings of the journey and the misfortunes in Tibet, shut his eyes to the path of reason, and was so persistent in his demands, that at last I gave him leave to go, sending four men to accompany him.

My party of twenty-seven, by the loss of these five, was thus reduced to twenty-two, and with these I went forward upon this [strange] road. A few of our horses had become useless from want of shoes. On the same day that we parted from Iskandar Sultán, towards midday prayer-time, we killed a wild kutás. With its skin we made coverings for the feet of our disabled horses: of its flesh we carried away as much as we were able, and even then there remained what would have been sufficient for a day or two. This was a favour bestowed upon us by the Giver of daily bread. We carried away as much as our beasts could bear, which amounted to about five days' provisions for the party. I suppose about a quarter of the kutás was lost: that is to say about that quantity remained behind. The crows and ravens, by their screams, gave a general invitation to the beasts of prey of the neighbourhood, and they celebrated a feast in company.^466a

We proceeded in this manner, guessing [our way]. On the next day we killed another kutás, of a very large breed. [Couplet.] …

From the information I had gathered from Jaháh Sháh, I reckoned that it would be another six days, before we should come to a cultivated region; but on the third day after our separation from Iskandar Sultán, at about breakfast-time, we met with some men with their families, some of whom came out to receive us with great cordiality, and asked us whence we had come and whither we were going. They told us that this valley was called Rás Kám, and that from here to [the] Pamir was five days' journey. When we arrived at this place [Rás Kám], all of us took a rest, after the trials of so many years.

The people took over all our broken horses and gave us strong ones in their stead. They also supplied us, in the most hospitable manner, with such meat and drink as they had to give. When they saw me, they all began to weep and cried, in their own language: “Thanks be [to God] that there still remains a prince of the dynasty that has ruled over us for four hundred years: we are your faithful and devoted servants.” They then attached themselves, with their wives and families, to me. I was powerless to hinder them. At every place we came to, I was joined by all the men, women and children of the district. For the space of seven days they lavished every attention and honour upon us, brought us to the Pamir, and induced us to proceed to Badakhshán. (Sulaimán Sháh Mirzá, the son of Mirzá Khán, the son of my maternal aunt, has been mentioned in several places above. When I came to his [abode] he hastened out to receive me, showing me honour, by every means at his disposal.)^467a We then offered up a thousand thanks to God Almighty, who had delivered us from such great dangers, and had brought us into safety; [verse] … and from a land of Infidels to one of true Believers. [Three couplets.] …

When we reached Wákhán, which is the frontier [sar-hadd] of Badakhshán, there came to me one of Rashid Sultán's followers, who was there on some business. I gave him some Turki verses, which I had composed, to deliver over to his master…^467b

If I were to detail the acts of violence and unkindness of Rashid Sultán, a separate chapter would be necessary. God willing an account of his life will be given in the First Part; repetition would not be pleasing.

To be brief, at this time my wife, who was Rashid Sultán's paternal aunt, was banished [ikhráj] in a kindly way, with Iskandar Sultán to accompany her. Another act of kindness was that she was not robbed, or deprived of anything; all that she had at hand was sent with her. She reached Badakhshán, however, in a pitiable and destitute condition. About ten persons were allowed, by Rashid's favour, to accompany her, and these took with them all their cattle.^467c

That winter I passed in Badakhshán in perfect comfort, and the spring I spent in the plains and hills of that country; in the summer I went to Kábul. Soon after my arrival, there came together, in Kábul, some of my connections who had been banished [by Rashid Sultán]: namely, the Khán's wife, Zainab Sultán Khánim, who was his cousin, with her children Ibráhim Sultán (the Khán's favourite child), Muhassan Sultán and Mahmud Yusuf.

[Afterwards] I passed on into Hindustán. When I reached Láhur I found Kámrán Mirzá, son of Bábar Pádisháh, there. He came out to meet me with every mark of respect, and bestowed honours on me. From the depths of distress and hardship, I found myself raised to honour and dignity. [Verses.] … The princely patronage and attention [of Kámrán Mirzá] acted as an antidote to the numerous sufferings and griefs, which had made the sweetness of life bitter on the palate of my soul. [Verses.] …

At this period, one of the sons of Sháh Ismáil marched upon Kandahar, and captured it. It came about thus: Sám Mirzá, one of Sháh Ismáil's sons, fleeing with a body of men from his brother Sháh Tahmásp, reached the territory of Sistán. Thence he turned towards Kandahár, where was Mir Khwája Kilán. This Mir Khwája Kilán was the son of Mauláná Muhammad Sadr, one of the pillars of religion and state to Mirzá Amar Shaikh, son of Mirzá Sultán Abu Said. His [Mauláná Sadr's] children, after the death of Mirzá Amar Shaikh, entered, by hereditary succession, the service of Bábar Pádisháh, for whom they achieved great things. In that family their reputation stands high, for six brothers were killed in battle on separate occasions, and this one, Mir Khwája Kilán, alone survived.

He was a brave and learned man, and by his sound judgment was able to regulate most of the Emperor's affairs of State. It was owing to his exertions that, under the divine decree, the Emperor achieved the conquest of Hindustán.^468a In short, he defended the fort of Kandahár in such a way, that Sám Mirzá, after besieging it vigorously and persistently for eight months, was unable to take it. At the end of eight months, Kámrán Mirzá arrived from Hindustán and engaged [Sám Mirzá] in battle, at the very gates of the fort of Kandahár. Through the gallantry and energy of Mir Khwája Kilán, victory declared for Kámrán Mirzá after a hard fought combat, and Sám Mirzá, humbled and discomfited, fell back on Irák,^468b while Kámrán Mirzá returned to Láhur. It was at that time that I arrived at Láhur.

That winter passed over, and in the following spring, Sháh Tahmásp marched against Kandahár to avenge his brother. It was this Sháh Tahmásp who, whenever he made war upon Khorásán, met with such determined opposition from the Uzbeg under Ubaid Ullah Khán, and such overpowering resistance from their numerous forces, that he was always compelled to retreat. [Couplet]… Mir Khwája Kilán was not able to put the fort in a state to withstand a siege, on account of the numbers and the strength of Sháh Tahmásp's army, and also because, having the year before sustained a siege of eight months, his ammunition and other necessaries were exhausted. Moreover, he entertained no hope of Kámrán Mirzá coming to his relief. Under these conditions, he abandoned Kandahár and retired to Ucha and Tatta, whence he passed on to Láhur.

When this news reached the ears of Kámrán Mirzá, he resolved to march [at once] for Kandahár. Leaving the whole of Hindu-stán and its dependencies in my charge, and giving me entire authority over all his officials and nobles—setting me, in fact, over the whole of the affairs of his kingdom—he proceeded to Kandahár. On reaching this place, the emissaries of Sháh Tahmásp gave the fort up to him peacefully, and returned to Irák. This journey [of Kámrán Mirzá] lasted rather more than a year, during which period I did all that was possible to discharge my duties, in the administration of the State. I attended carefully to collecting taxes, suppressing revolt, protecting the frontiers and establishing Islám, so that when Kámrán Mirzá returned, in the full glow of victory, to his capital Láhur, he raised my salary from fifteen to fifty laks, and distinguished me among my peers, by his favours. One lak of Hindustán is worth twenty thousand sháhrukhis. A current sháhrukhi is worth one mithkál of silver.^469a

HUMÁYUN PÁDISHÁH was the eldest, greatest, and most renowned of Bábar's sons. I have seen few persons possessed of so much natural talent and excellence as he, but in consequence of frequent intercourse with the sensual and profligate men who served him, such as Mauláná Muhammad Parghari in particular, and others like him, he had contracted some bad habits; among these was his addiction to opium. All the evil that has been set down to the Emperor, and has become the common talk of the people, is attributable to this vice. Nevertheless he was endowed with excellent qualities, being brave in battle, gay in feast and very generous. [Couplet.] … In short, he was a dignified, stately and regal sovereign, who observed much state and pomp. When, for example, I entered his service at Agra, as shall be mentioned, it was after his defeats, and when people said that compared with what it had been, there was nothing left of his pomp and magnificence. Yet when his army was arrayed for the Ganges campaign (in which the whole direction devolved upon me) there were still 17,000 menials [shagird pisha] in his retinue, from which circumstance an estimate may be formed of the rest of his establishment.

To be brief; when Kámrán Mirzá went the first time to Kandahár, the Emperor invaded Gujrát and conquered it. But on account of the insubordination and discord that prevailed among the Amirs, he was obliged to abandon the country, and return empty handed. To repair this disappointment—being still at the height of his power—he turned to attack Bangála, which he also conquered, and where he made a protracted stay.

Hindál Mirzá, his youngest brother, was in Agra. [Hearing that] Shir Khán was coming from Barkunda and Ruhtás, against Agra, [Hindál] put to death Shaikh Pul who has been mentioned as the Emperor's spiritual guide, and caused the Khutba to be read in his own name. He began openly to sound the drums of sovereignty. As the proverb says: “Whenever sedition arises, prosperity gets up [to go].”^470a When this news reached Bangála, the Emperor at once set out for Agra, leaving Bangála in charge of Jahángir Kuli, son of Ibrahim Begjik, the Moghul, supported by 5000 men. But when Hindál read the Khutba in his own name, none of the Emperor's Amirs who were in the surrounding cities, would acknowledge him. With his lack of good sense—and this was the cause of his misfortunes—he left Shir Khán behind, and turned to conquering the Emperor's dominions. As has been said: “Do the work of your friends, that your enemy may do his own work.” In the first place he marched against Dehli, the capital of the whole of Hindustán. But the governors of Dehli, who were Amirs of the Emperor, would not give up the town, and a fierce encounter ensued between the two parties, each filling its enemy with fear, and its friends with courage.

While Hindál Mirzá was thus engaged, Humáyun came from Bangála to Jusa and Páik. Shir Khán, seizing his opportunity, cut off his progress.^470b The Emperor had lost all his horses in Bangála, and the strength of his army was wasted; the rainy season too, had come on. He remained for three months encamped opposite to Shir Khán. Repeated messengers came [from the Emperor] saying that Shir Khán was at the bottom of all the confusion in Hindustán, that he was now face to face with him, and that his brothers should come quickly, as it was necessary to make an end of Shir Khán. [The letters arrived, but] the brothers were engaged in hostilities, so the enemy remained at his ease.

When news of these events reached Kámrán Mirzá, he at once led his army against Dehli. [On his approach] Hindál Mirzá fled, and the Emperor's Amirs came out to meet him. His arrival filled the breasts of the people with fresh courage, so that the veterans exerted themselves in affording assistance to the Emperor in Jusa. But some perverse advisers offered different counsel, saying: “To go to Jusa would release the Emperor, destroy the enemy and ensnare us.” Kámrán Mirzá, in his ignorance and childlike folly, mistook this bad advice for wisdom, and delayed in setting forth. But men of experience said: “Since he is putting off his departure, we had better return, lest the equipment of the army be spoiled. Let every one go back to his own home and make fitting preparations for an active campaign. If Shir Khán defeat the Emperor, we shall be equipped and ready [to meet him]. If, on the other hand, the Emperor destroys Shir Khán, well and good.”

But this did not quite satisfy [the discontented]. They argued: “If the Emperor destroy Shir Khán, he will be enraged against us. We must contrive some means to procure the forgiveness of the offended Emperor.” In short they returned to Agra. After they had been there a little more than a month, the Emperor arrived, defeated and crestfallen. In the middle of the rains [pashkál] the brothers came together. This occurred in Safar of the year 946.^471a

This departure of Kámrán Mirzá was the turning-point in the rise of Shir Khán, and in the downfall of the Chaghatái power. The Emperor strongly urged him to leave some of his officers and forces as auxiliaries, but Kámrán Mirzá, on the contrary, did all he could to induce those who were at Agra to go away with him, and strenuously rejected the proposal to leave his own army behind. Mir Khwája Kilán, who was his prime minister (and a slight allusion to whose character has been made above), exerted himself to the same purpose. Kámrán Mirzá sent him on in advance, and then followed in person.

While this was passing, Shir Khán advanced to the banks of the Ganges and crossed his army over. Kutb Khán, his son, marched towards Atáva [Etáwa] and Kálpi. These territories were the fiefs [ikta] of Husain Sultán, who was one of the Uzbeg Sultáns,^472b and Yádgár Násir Mirzá, son of Sultán Násir Mirzá, the brother of the Emperor Bábar, whose story has been told above. Part of Kálpi had been given to Kámrán Mirzá and he had sent to that district Iskandar Sultán, as his representative. These three persons advanced against Kutb Khán, who was slain in the battle, and they gained a complete victory. The Emperor now marched from Agra towards the Ganges against Shir Khán.

Kámrán Mirzá, having placed the entire management of his own affairs in my hands, strongly urged me to return to Láhur. He represented as follows: “You left Kashghár on account of the unworthy treatment of your own people, whom you had served faithfully all your life: the result is evident. When you came to me, I treated you, in consideration of our relationship, like a brother—nay, even better: I entrusted the conduct of all my affairs to you and gave you full authority to appoint and displace, and generally to administer [my dominion]. If in these matters I have been guilty of any shortcoming, you must point it out to me, that I may make reparation. But do not, on the other hand, at such a crisis as this, when the enemy has the upper hand in my kingdom and disease in my body, withdraw the hand of brotherly compassion from acts of kindness; rather save me from these two imminent dangers, and accompany me to Láhur.”

Now the Emperor and myself had become friends, after the Moghul fashion, and he had given me the name of dust [friend]. In council he never addressed me by any other name, and on the firmáns it was written in this manner. No one of my brothers or the Sultáns of the time, who had been in the Emperor's service, had ever been honoured in such a way as was I, Muhammad Haidar Kurkán, who being the approved friend of such a prince as the Emperor, was called not merely ‘brother’ but was chosen as dust.

Although I was already in the service of Kámrán Mirzá [the Emperor] acted upon my advice in all his affairs. He said: “What Kámrán Mirzá asks of you, with regard to escorting him [to Láhur], in consequence of the aggravated symptoms of his malady, which prevent his full comprehension of things as they are, is not an affair of yours. His going does not depend upon your accompanying him, nor are you in any way bound to go to Láhur. If he gives his illness as a reason, you are not a physician, nor have you any remedies. If he urges you on the ground of kinship, your relationship descends from the [late] Emperor, and therefore your connection with me and with Kámrán Mirzá is exactly equal. Consider, for the sake of justice, the truth of what I am saying to you! On the issue of this battle between myself and Shir Khán, depends the fate of all India and all the house of Bábar Pádisháh. If, with such a conflict about to take place, you betake yourself to Láhur on account of Kámrán Mirzá's sickness, two things will ensue. Firstly, having escaped from the yawning abyss, you will save your own head, and by means of Kámrán Mirzá's feigned illness, will regain safety. All the rest will die, but you will be safe! Secondly, you being the cousin of Bábar Pádisháh, your relationship [to his sons] is equal, and it is fitting that you should show your sympathy with the whole of the Emperor's race. In such a flight as you meditate, you will bear nobody's sorrow.^473a Escaping in safety to Láhur, you will thence proceed to whatever place you consider secure. If you think this conformable with the conduct of a ‘friend’ and a ‘brother,’ you may act accordingly: but know, for a certainty, that you will encounter the opposition of the people. Instead of their saying: ‘In spite of Kámrán Mirzá's illness, he did not escort him to Láhur, but with sound judgment, took part in the Ganges campaign with the army:’ they will say that you left me alone to undertake a combat, on the result of which hung the fate of the house to whom your loyalty is owing. [They will add] that giving as an excuse the illness of Kámrán Mirzá, you found for yourself a place of security. Besides, it is a fact that if we lose the day here, Láhur too will quickly fall.”

These arguments quite convinced me, and being unable to obtain Kámrán Mirzá's permission, I remained behind without it.^474a

Kámrán Mirzá himself, shamefully leaving only Iskandar Sultán with about one thousand men as auxiliaries, went off to Láhur, taking with him all the men from Agra whom he could carry with him, thus giving strength to the enemy and preparing defeat for his friends.

The Imperial army reached the banks of the Ganges in the best way that it could. There it encamped and lay for about a month, the Emperor being on one side of the river, and Shir Khán on the other, facing each other. The armies may have amounted to more than 200,000 men. Muhammad Sultán Mirzá, a descendant of Ulugh Mirzá and Sháh Mirzá (who were of the house of Timur) and grandson (by a daughter) of Sultán Husain Mirzá (of Khorásán), had come to India to wait upon the Emperor Bábar, and had been received with every mark of kindness and royal favour. After Bábar's death, he had several times revolted against Humáyun; but being unsuccessful, he had sought forgiveness, and had been pardoned. Now having colluded with Shir Khán, he deserted. A new way was thus opened. Everybody began to desert, and the most surprising part of it was, that many of those who deserted did not go over to Shir Khán, and so could expect no favour from him. An excited feeling ran through the army and the cry was, “Let us go and rest in our homes.” A number of Kámrán's auxiliary forces also abandoned him and fled to Láhur.

Among the equipments which were in the train of the Emperor were 700 carriages (gardun), each drawn by four pairs of bullocks, and carrying a swivel (zarb-zan), which discharged a ball (kalola) of 500 mithkáls weight. I, myself, saw several times that from the top of an eminence they unfailingly (bi-khatá) struck horsemen who slightly and unsuspectingly exposed themselves. And there were twenty-one carriages, each drawn by eight pairs of bullocks. Stone balls were of no use in these, but the shots were of molten brass weighing 5000 mithkáls, and the cost of each was 200 mithkáls of silver. They would strike anything that was visible at the distance of a parasang.

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

Both armies entrenched themselves. Everyday skirmishes occurred between the adventurous, swaggering spirits of both sides. These proceedings were put an end to by the monsoon rains, which came on and flooded the ground, rendering it unfit for a camp. To move was indispensable. Opinions were expressed that another such a deluge would sink the whole army in the abyss of despair, and it was proposed to move to some rising ground which the inundation could not reach, and which lay in front of the enemy. I went to reconnoitre, and found a place suitable for the purpose.

I said that we would, on the morrow, try the enemy on the touchstone of experience; for he ought not to attack while we were on the march, but if he should do so, it would be wrong to attempt a pitched battle while moving. The morrow would be the 10th of Moharram, and we must keep our forces well under control, until we should see if the enemy came out of his trenches and advanced against us. Then, at last, a regular pitched battle would be fought between us. The proper plan would be for us to place the mortars and swivels in front: and the gunners, nearly 5000 in number, must be stationed with the guns. If he should come out to attack us, there would be no time or place more suitable than the present, for battle. If he should not come out of his entrenchments, we must remain drawn up till about midday, and then return to our position. Next day we must act in just the same way. Then the baggage must move to the new position, and we must follow and occupy the place. This scheme of mine met with general approbation.

On the 10th Moharram, 947, we mounted to carry the plan into effect, and made our dispositions. As had been determined, the carriages and mortars and small guns were placed in the centre. The command of the guns was given to Muhammad Khán Rumi, to the sons of Ustád Ali Kuli, to Ustád Ahmad Rumi and Husain Khalifa. They placed the carriages and mortars in their proper positions, and stretched chains between them. In other divisions there were Amirs of no repute—men who were Amirs [nobles] only in name. They had got possession of the country, but they had not a tincture of prudence or knowledge, or energy or emulation, or dignity of mind or generosity—qualities from which nobility draws its name.

The Emperor had posted the author of this work upon his left, so that his right flank should be on the Emperor's left. In the same position he had placed a force of chosen troops. On my left all my retainers were stationed. I had 400 chosen men, inured to warfare and familiar with battle, fifty of whom were mounted on horses accoutred with armour. Between me and the river (jui-bár) there was a force of twenty-seven Amirs, all of whom carried the tugh [banner]. In this position also, were the other components of the left wing, and they must be judged of by the others. On the day of battle, when Shir Khán, having formed his divisions, marched out, of all these twenty-seven banners not one was to be seen, for the great nobles had hidden them, in the apprehension that the enemy might advance upon them. The soldiership and bravery of the Amirs may be conceived from this exhibition of courage.

Shir Khán came out in five divisions of 1000 men each, and in advance of him were 3000 men. I estimated the whole as being less than 15,000, but I calculated the Chaghatái force at about 40,000, all mounted on tipchák horses, and clad in iron armour. They surged like the waves of the sea, but the courage of the Amirs and officers of the army was such as I have described. When Shir Khán's army came out of its entrenchments, two divisions (jauk) which seemed to be equal to four divisions, drew up in that place, and three divisions advanced against their opponents. On our side I was leading the centre, to take up the position which I had selected; but when we reached the ground, we were unable to occupy it, for every Amir and Vazir in the Chaghatái army, whether he be rich or poor, has his camp-followers [ghulam]. An Amir of note, with his 100 retainers and followers, has 500 servants and ghulams, who on the day of battle render no assistance to their masters and have no control over themselves. So in whatever place there was a conflict, the ghulams were entirely ungovernable. When they lost their masters, they were seized with panic and blindly rushed about in terror. In short, it was impossible to hold our ground. They so pressed us in the rear, that they drove the centre upon the chains stretched between the chariots, and they and the soldiers dashed each other upon them. Those who were behind, so pressed upon those who were in front, that they broke through the chains. The men who were posted by the chains were driven beyond them, and the few who remained behind were broken, so that all formation was destroyed.^476a

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

When the Chaghatái took to flight, the distance between their position and the Ganges might be nearly a farsákh. All the Amirs and braves [báhadurán] fled for safety to the river, without a man of them having received a wound. The enemy pursued them, and the Chaghatái, having no time to throw off their armour and coats, plunged into the water. The breadth of the river might be about five bowshots. Many illustrious Amirs were drowned, and each one remained or went on, at his will. When we came out of the river, His Majesty, who at midday had a retinue of 17,000 in attendance upon his court, was mounted upon a horse which had been given to him by Tardi Beg, and had nothing on his head or feet. “Permanence is from God and dominion is from God.” Out of 1000 retainers eight persons came out of the river; the rest had perished in the water. The total loss may be estimated from this fact. When we reached Agra, we made no tarry, but, broken and dispirited, in a state heart-rending to relate, we went on to Láhur.

ON the 1st of Rabi I. 947, all the Sultáns, Amirs and people assembled together. So great was the crowd of people that there was but little space for moving about, while it was difficult to find a lodging. High and low, each had his own ends to serve, and each made suggestions; every man of noble birth had his scheme, and all those of low parentage their ideas. Among them were Muhammad Sultán Mirzá and Ulugh Mirzá, who had deserted on the banks of the Gang, on the eve of the battle. Not finding any place in which they could remain, they came in a most pitiable condition to Láhur. They kept apart [from the others] and were still boasting hostility. [These two] made themselves the heads, or rather the donkeys'-heads, of a rabble of ruffians and senseless Hindus. Hindál Mirzá and Yádgár Násir Mirzá likewise entered into baseless and idle plans, [saying]: We will go to Bakar and take it from Sháh Husain Arghun, and with his forces will subdue Gujrát. Kámrán Mirzá was engrossed with devising some plan for dispersing all this assemblage, while he should repair, alone, to Kábul.

Humáyun Pádisháh for a time thought of reunion, but seeing difficulties in the way, he abandoned all hope of this, and was at a loss what to do next. [Reunion], however, was his object. At this time repeated meetings were held, out of mere hypocrisy. Union was discussed, but they had only disunion at heart; they called in the magnates and leading men, to be witnesses that no one opposed or deviated from the resolutions agreed to. Thus were summoned Khwája Khánd Máhmud,^478a his younger brother Khwája Abdul Hakk and Mir Abul-baká, who were all noted for their learning and esteemed for their piety, together with many other great men, whose names it would take too long to mention individually. The Sultáns, Amirs and many others were present. At first they assented to reunion and drew up a written engagement, upon the margin of which the magnates signed their names as witnesses. They then embarked upon the discussion.

First of all the Emperor, pointing to me, said: “You must tell us what you consider the most suitable line of action to pursue at this moment.” I represented: “When Sultán Husain Mirzá of Khorásán departed this life, his seventeen sons, in consequence of their disunion, abandoned Khorásán to Sháhi Beg Khán, so that to the present day they are objects of reproach to the people, and rejected of all mankind. To add to this disgrace they have all been extinguished; insomuch that within the space of one year, excepting Badi-uz-Zamán who went to Rum, not one remains alive. The late Emperor, Bábar, conquered this far-stretching land of Hindustán with much exertion and toil, and on leaving this world, transmitted [the empire] to you. Would you suffer a country like Hindustán to be seized by such a man as Shir Khán? Consider what a difference there is between Hindustán with all its revenues, and Khorásán; and how inferior is Shir Khán to Sháhi Beg Khán! Also remember the degree of censure you will incur from mankind! Now is the moment for you to consider your condition, and having removed your head from the collar of envy, to place it in the pocket of meditation, that you may acquire the esteem of the people. Formerly, when matters could have been arranged with ease, you put obstacles in the way, by your want of constancy and of purpose. At present it is impossible to achieve anything, without encountering untold difficulties.

“I will now lay before you what seems to me your wisest course. It involves great hardships, but it is you who have made hard what was once easy. And moreover, if you do not bear patiently your present troubles, they will become yet more onerous. My advice is as follows: Shir Khán will still take four months to reach Láhur. During these four months, the mountain slopes of Hindustán should be given to the Sultáns, and each one, in proportion to his share, should be made to pledge his allegiance.

“Let every man attend to the particular business to which he has been appointed. Let me, for instance, be appointed to the task of subduing Kashmir, and I engage that within two months I will accomplish it. As soon as you hear of my arrival in Kashmir, let every one send his family and baggage thither, while he betakes himself to the mountains, and forms a strong position on the slopes—from the hills of Sarind to those [occupied by] Sarang.^479a

The mortars [dig] and swivels [zarb-zan] of Shir Khán are the mainstay of his fighting power. It is impossible to bring gun-carriages into the hills, and he will not hazard a battle without them. His army, from stress of numbers, will perish for want of grain, and must perforce retreat.”

Kámrán Mirzá, frowning at these words, said: “Although what you recommend is plausible enough, it involves difficulties too great.” I replied: “When I began, I represented, in excuse for myself, that the business was a difficult one. All easy methods are now out of question. Nothing but difficulties remain. If any one can suggest an easier solution, let him speak.” Kámrán Mirzá said: “We have now with us nearly 200,000 householders [khánavár mardum]. Should the advice just offered be acted upon, and the attempt fail, it is probable that all this multitude will be destroyed. It is, therefore, better that the Emperor and the Mirzás should go unencumbered, either to the hills or to Kashmir, leaving their families to be conducted to Kábul by me. Having safely disposed of the families, I will return to join the army.”

All were bewildered by this suggestion and asked themselves, “What has now become of our oath of union? What are these sentiments? Who would think of sending his family to Kábul and himself remaining without baggage? Between Láhur and Kábul there are rivers, highway robbers, and mountains. The Mirzá's scheme is quite impracticable.” Although much discussion followed, Kámrán Mirzá did not carry a single point. Thus [ostensible] desires for union were shown to be hypocrisy, and the meeting broke up. But time passed, and meanwhile Shir Khán had reached the banks of the river of Sultánpur.^481a Every man chose a place of retreat for himself. The Emperor consulted with me in this exigency, and I again respectfully represented that I still held by the Kashmir plan. “At any rate,” I continued, “if you allow me to go in advance, the rest can follow after, and I guarantee that I will conquer Kashmir.” The Emperor then gave me leave to depart, furnishing me with what help he was able; so that with four hundred freed men and slaves, I set out for Kashmir.

IT has been observed above, that the Sultáns of Kashmir had fallen under the power of their worthless Amirs, every one of whom acted in whatever way he saw fit. At the time when Kámrán Mirzá went to Kandahár to fight the son of Sháh Ismail, as was mentioned, the chiefs [maliks] of Kashmir were engaged in mutual hostilities. Káchi Chak, Abdál Makri and Zangi Chak had been turned out of Kashmir and, having taken up their abode at the foot of the mountains of Hind, they appealed to me for help.^482a Háji, who was mentioned in the relation of events in Tibet, acted as intermediary. Frequently, and with insistence, had I tried to convince Kámrán Mirzá on the subject of Kashmir. At the time of [Kámrán Mirzá's] march on Dehli, an army was mustered in Agra, and a certain Bábá Chuchak was placed at the head of it. Háji came from Agra to Láhur with Bábá Chuchak, to join in the expedition against Kashmir. But Bábá Chuchak, being weak-minded and incapable, could not manage this business, and delayed in setting out till the news of the defeat on the Gang arrived. The soldiers stood fast, and Bábá Chuchak was released from [the duty of] conducting the Kashmir expedition.

At the time when the general assemblage took place in Láhur, Háji carried many messages to and fro, between myself on the one hand, and Abdál Makri on the other, in furtherance of my plan. All terminated in a most desirable way, and I was thus able to impress it strongly on the Emperor. I showed him the letter which had been sent me, and he became convinced that Kashmir would be conquered as soon as I should appear there.

I HAD arranged with the Emperor that I should, in the first place, proceed with a small number of men to Nau Shahr,^483a and that as soon as the Maliks of Kashmir should have joined me, Iskandar Tupchi should overtake me there. When I should have reached the pass, Mir Khwája Kilán, in praise of whom I have spoken above, was to enter Nau Shahr. On my descending into Kashmir Mir Khwája Kilán was to advance to the foot of the pass of Kashmir, while the Emperor would pitch his camp at Nau Shahr. Matters having been thus arranged, Kámrán Mirzá and the rest were allowed to go wherever they pleased.

All being settled, I set out, and in Nau Shahr was joined by all the Maliks of Kashmir. Iskandar Tupchi was one day's journey from Nau Shahr. Mir Khwája Kilán was in Siálkut. On the same day that I despatched a messenger to Iskandar Tupchi, news reached me that all our people had evacuated Láhur. I started in all haste: when I arrived at the foot of the pass [leading to] Kashmir, Káchi Chak ascended by one road, and we by another, and without further contention or discussion we [all] arrived at [Kashmir].

Now when Iskandar Tupchi and Mir Khwája Kilán heard of the evacuation of Láhur, the former sought a refuge with Sárang, who was one of the Sultáns of the slopes of the hills [kuh páya] of Hind, while the latter, leaving Siálkut, went and joined the fugitives [from Láhur]. In spite of the Emperor's endeavours to reach Kashmir, he could induce no one to accompany him. Some foolish imbeciles, namely, Hindál Mirzá, Yádgár Násir Mirzá and others beside, carried him off to Tatta and Bakar, to attack [basar] Mirzá Sháh Husain the son of Sháh Beg Arghun (son of Zulnun Arghun). This Mirzá Sháh Husain is the same personage who was spoken of above. When Bábar Pádisháh wrested Kandahár from Sháh Beg, the latter retired to Ucha and Tatta and subdued the whole of the surrounding country. He was succeeded on his death by his son Mirzá Sháh Husain, who busied himself for some time in strengthening his forts and settling his country; for he was, in truth, a methodical and prudent man.^483b Against him it was that this blundering band marched. But being able to achieve nothing, Hindál Mirzá went to Kandahár, whose governor came out to receive him. He began to boast of empire, [whereupon] Kámrán Mirzá marched against him, from Kábul. After some unfortunate occurrences, and being reduced to extremities, he begged Kámrán Mirzá to spare his life, promising that he would enter his service. Not long after this, Yádgár Násir Mirzá and Kásim Husain Sultán also fled from the Emperor and joined Kámrán Mirzá. The Emperor, after endless hardships and incalculable misfortunes, passed on to Irák, but up to the present time it is not known what has become of him. As for Kámrán Mirzá, he is at Kábul and in despair from the buffetings of fortune.

My trust is in the most glorious and merciful God, that He will again raise to the throne of sovereignty Humáyun Pádisháh, than whom there have been few greater Sultáns. He has endured such suffering and misery as have fallen to the lot of few Emperors. May he make the people prosperous and contented under his benevolent shadow. It is thus written in the “Sunna”: that when the affairs of a great ruler go to ruin, he is himself the cause. If, as is rarely the case, the ruler be spared these calamities, his escape must be certainly attributable to his good sense.

It is related, in the earlier portion of this book, that his [Humá-yun's] father, Bábar Pádisháh, on several occasions mounted the throne of Samarkand, but as often suffered ruinous defeats. In those defeats his own head was kept safe, and finally God raised him to such power, that all the world felt his influence, while his name remains among the [immortal] Sultáns. May God, having delivered Humáyun Pádisháh from these perils and dangers, grant him similar well-being and wisdom!

PARTING OF THE AUTHOR FROM HUMÁYUN PÁDISHÁH. HIS MARCH AGAINST, AND CONQUEST OF KASHMIR. CONTEMPORANEOUS EVENTS, AND CONCLUSION OF THE “TÁRIKH-I-RÁSHIDI.”

AFTER a settlement of some kind had been arrived at among the Mirzás, I obtained, by the grace of Providence, the permission of Humáyun to depart, and for the reasons above stated, started from Láhur in the direction of Kashmir. I have explained that on the 22nd of Rajab, I crossed the pass of Kashmir. This date I discovered in the words “Julus-i-dár-ul-mulk-i-Kashmir,” [ascending the throne of Kashmir]. It was the season of Sagittarius. I had scarce ascended the throne of triumph, when the snow began to fall and the face of the earth became white, while the eyes of the enemy turned dark. By the divine favour, that winter passed in quiet.

Now Káchi Chak had been forced, thrice previously, to disconnect himself from the government of Kashmir. His own wife and children had not seen him, for he had left them in the care of Malik Abdál and Zangi Chak, and had gone off, thinking that, as on former occasions, his resignation and resumption of power would not be settled within a year. [Verse] … All the [chief] men of Kashmir, believing this too, went with him, ignoring that God gives to whomsoever He will, and takes away from whomsoever He will. [Two couplets]… Káchi Chak, vainly imagining that Shir Khán, by force of arms, could change the decree of the Most High God, appealed to him for aid.

In the beginning of spring …^485a having obtained auxiliaries from Shir Khán, he again moved forward with a large force. Just at this juncture, and when this news was confirmed, Malik Abdál [Makri] who was the mainstay of the whole scheme, was attacked by paralysis, and migrated to the Eternal abode, so that the brunt of the affair fell on Zangi Chak. In a word, after various difficulties had been surmounted, which it would be tedious to relate in detail, we left our families in the fort of Andarkul^485b and went out to meet and oppose [the enemy], with a vacillating band. [Two couplets] … During three months we attacked their strongholds and met them in the field; till at length, Káchi Chak, having formed a junction with the auxiliaries of Shir Khán, marched boldly out of the hill district [Báládast] which he had fortified, and took up a position on a spot that was a halting stage. At this place the army of Kashmir, who from their outward appearance looked as if they must disperse in flight, held their ground. [On our side] [only] the Moghul army kept its position. No one expected a battle that day; most had gone off in different directions to attend to their own affairs; so that only about 250 men were present, together with a few Kashmiris who had joined the Moghuls, making in all about 300. These advanced and attacked a force comprising 5000 cavalry, two elephants, and a body of infantry more numerous than the cavalry. Falling upon their rear, [our army] began by plundering their baggage and stores. The battle was so desperate, that should I enter into the particulars, the reader would imagine I was exaggerating. Therefore, avoiding details, I will content myself with a summary account. To resume, at noonday prayers on Monday, the 8 Rabi II. 948,^486a we routed an army of 5000 cavalry, and several thousand foot, with a body of only 300 men. [Verses] … The preacher [Khatib] of Kashmir, Mauláná Yusuf, found the date in Fath-i-Mukarrar [The repeated victory], for I had already once entered Kashmir and gained a victory there, as has been related.

[Here follows a prayer, ending with an apology to the reader for the faults and shortcomings of the “Epitome.”]

EXTRACT from a paper entitled: The Square Silver Coins of the Sultáns of Kashmir, by Mr. C. J. Rodgers, M.R.A.S., &c., in the Journ. Asiat. Socy. Bengal, Vol. LIV. Pt. I., No. 2, 1885, pp. 92 to 139 (see pp. 116-21).

In Notes 2, p. 433—1, p. 441—1, p. 482, and in Sec. I of the Introduction, reference has been made to Mr. C. J. Rodgers' translations from Firishta's History contained in the able and interesting paper cited above. As Mirza Haidar closes his narrative somewhat abruptly, at the time of his conquest of Kashmir, I believe that a summary of the affairs of the country during his regency, will be found useful to the reader, and therefore transcribe here, that portion of Mr. Rodgers' published paper which deals with the period in question. It comprises the last ten years of Mirza Haidar's life, and is also, no doubt, the best account that exists of a little known phase of Indian history.

Názuk Sháh. 2nd Time.—After his father, Názuk sat on the throne of the kingdom. (His father we are told was Ibrahim Sháh. There is confusion again here.) He had not, however, reigned more than five or six months when Mirzá Haidar Turk, having obtained a firm footing in Kashmir ruled it. In his time the Khutba was read and coins were struck in the name of Násir-ud-Din Muhammad Humáyun Bádsháh. (The coins of Humáyun struck in Kashmir are exceedingly rare. They are exactly of the same type as those of the preceding kings. There are some small differences in the inscriptions in the arrangements of the letters. One coin has a ha in the field to the right, which I consider to be the first letter of Haidar's name. The dates of the coins fall within the period during which Mirzá Haidar ruled Kashmir nominally in his master's name. But all these ten years poor Humáyun was a fugitive in Sind and Persia and Affghánistán and he never derived any benefit from the fact that prayers were used in Kashmir with his name in them, and coins current with his name on them.)

In the year 948 A.H.^487a when Humáyun, flying before Sher Sháh Suri, reached Lahore, Malik Abdál Mákari, Zangi Chakk and other petitioners wrote about Humáyun's taking Kashmir and sent the letter by the hands of Mirzá Haidar. The emperor dismissed the Mirzá in the direction of Kashmir and gave it out as his intention to follow shortly himself. When the Mirzá arrived at Bhir he was met by Abdál Mákari and Zangi Chakk. The Mirzá had with him only three or four thousand horsemen, but when he arrived at Rájáori, Malik Gáji Chakk who was the ruler of Kashmir, arrived at Khabal Kartal (it is called Karmal by Erskine) and entrenched himself with from three to four thousand horsemen and 50,000 infantry. Mirzá Haidar therefore changed his route and went by Pabhaj (the Panuj of Erskine) which Gáji Chakk in his pride had forgotten to defend. The Mirzá crossed the mountains and descending into the plain of Kashmir took possession at once of Srinagar. Abdál Mákari and Zangi Chakk finding themselves strong, busied themselves with the affairs of the kingdom, and they gave several pergunnahs to the Mirzá. But just at this time Abdál Mákari, died after recommending his sons to the care of the Mirzá.

After the arrival of Mirzá Haidar in Kashmir, Malik Gáji Chakk went to Sher Sháh Afghán for assistance. He obtained five thousand horsemen, over whom were Husain Sharváni and Adil Khán; and two elephants. Mirzá Haidar met him between Danahdyár and Káwah, and the zephyr of victory blowing in favour of the Mirzá, the Malik and his Affghán allies fled from the field and took possession of Bahrámgalla.

In the year 950 A.H. Mirzá Haidar settled himself in the fort of Indarkot. Zangi Chakk being suspected by him fled to Gáji Chakk and in 951 A.H. the two set out, in the direction of Srinagar, determined to root out Mirzá Haidar. Bahrám Chakk, son of Zangi Chakk arrived first at Srinagar, but he was easily put to flight by two of the Mirzá's generals, and his disorganised troops falling back on the main army Zangi Chakk and Gáji Chakk also fled and returned to Bahrámgalla. After this the Mirzá employed his army in invading Tibet. He took Lansur and many other large forts.

In 952 A.H. Gáji Chakk and his son Muhammad Chakk died of fever and ague. This year the Mirzá spent in ease.

In 953 A.H. Zangi Chakk fighting with Mirzá Haidar was killed. His head with the head of his son Gázi Khán were presented to Haidar.

In 954 A.H. ambassadors came to the Mirzá from Káshgar and he went with many nobles as far as Lár to meet them. In Lár the head of Khwája Ujh son of Masaud Chakk was brought to him. This man had for the space of seven years been fighting in Kamráj, but at last he had desired peace. Mirzá Mirak, swearing that all should be right, asked him to attend on him to make a treaty. But when Ujh came into the assembly he was stabbed by Mirak and he fled to the jungle pursued by Mirak who took his head off and sent it to Mirzá Haidar. Ide Ziná was far from pleased at seeing it, and, standing up in anger said, that after an oath and covenant had been made the slaughter of one man was not necessary. Haidar replied that he was not privy to the circumstances of the death.

After this Mirzá Haidar turned his attention to Kishtwár. Bandagán Kukah, Muhammad Mákari and Yahi Ziná led the van. The Mirzá took up his abode at Jhapur near Kishtwár. The van, doing three days' journey in one descended on Dahlot, where the river winds, and they were not able to ford it, for the enemy too opposed them. The next day the army of Haidar made a diversion to the right in hopes of reaching Kishtwár, but when they reached the town of Dhár, gusts of cold air laden with dust came down upon them, the day became dark and the people of the town made an attack on them. Bandagán Kukah with five other men was slain. The rest of the army with a thousand exertions at last joined themselves with Haidar. The Mirzá was not successful: he was obliged to retrace his steps ingloriously.

In 955 he turned his attention to Tibet. Taking Rájáori he gave it to Muhammad Nazir and Nasir Ali. Pakli^489a he gave to Mulla Abdullah and Little Tibet^489b he gave to Mullah Qásim. Conquering Great Tibet,^489c he appointed Mulla Hasan its governor.

In 956 he took the fort of Danel. At this time Adam Ghakkar came before the Mirzá and asked him to pardon Daulat Chakk. He agreed to do so and Adam called Daulat into the tent. The Mirzá, on his coming in, showed him no honour. For this reason Daulat became very angry, and taking away the elephant he had brought as a present, he went away. The courtiers wished to pursue him but the Mirzá forbade them. After some time Haidar returned to Kashmir. Daulat Chakk and Gázi Khán and Jai Chakk went to Haidar Khán who had fled from Islám Sháh to Rájáori. When Islám Sháh who was pursuing the Niyázis arrived at the town of Madawár from Naoshahra, Haibat Khán Niyázi sent Sayyid Khán to him. Sayyid Khán making propositions of peace gave up the mother and son of Haibat Khán Niyázi to Islám Sháh who turning back went to the town of Bán near Siálkot and agreed to the conditions. The three Kashmiris above-mentioned then took Haibat Khán to Bárámula and wished to take him to Kashmir, and carry away Haidar. As Haibat did not see his way to doing this he sent a Bráhman to Haidar with conditions of peace. When he had received a promise from Haidar he went to live at Hir (Nir in MS. No. 6571 opening 190 in British Museum) in Jammu and the Kashmiris went to Islám Sháh. Gházi Khán Chakk, however, went to Mirzá Haidar. (It is evident that at this time the Kashmiris were tired of Haidar. They wished Islám Sháh to be king. We do not read that Islám ever went so far as Kashmir. The nobles, however, must have struck coins in his name, using the formula struck in Kashmir on the reverse. I have seen two coins of Islám Sháh of this time. It was a common practice to strike coins anticipating events which did not come to pass. The date on this coin is 957 A.H. It may have been struck by Haidar as a compliment to Islám Sháh.)

In the year 957 A.H. Mirzá Haidar being at peace with his neighbours sent presents of saffron to Islám Sháh by the hands of Khwájah Shams Mughal. In the following year Islám Sháh sent the ambassadors back with presents of silk cloth and goods accompanied by Yásin (Básin in above MS.) as envoy. Mirzá Haidar sent back Yásin laden with shawls and saffron to Islám Sháh.

Mirzá Qarrá Bahádur was appointed governor of Bhirpul (or Bharmal) and along with him were sent from amongst the Kashmiris Idi Ziná and Názuk Sháh, Husain Mákari and Khwájah Háji. The whole of these with Mirzá Qarrá came back to Indarkot and went thence to Bárámula and became rebellious. The reason of this rebellion was that the Mughals (the forces of Mirzá Haidar) were not acceptable to them. When the Mughals informed the Mirzá of this he told them they were no less ready than the Kashmiris to rebel. Husain Mákari sent his brother Ali Mákari to Mirzá Haidar to make excuse for the Kashmiris and to call again the army. Haidar was not aware of the condition of things, and told them that the Kashmiris were powerless and that there was no use in calling the army.

On the 27th of Ramzán a great fire burst out in Indarkot. Mirzá Qarrá and his following sent word that their houses were destroyed, and asked for orders saying that if convenient they would rebuild their houses and next year go to Bhirpul. Mirzá Haidar was displeased at this conduct. Nevertheless whether he would or not the army went towards Bhirpul. At night time, however, Idi Ziná and the rest of the Kashmiris left the Mughals and came to the pass of Bhirpul and took with them Husain Mákari, Ali Mákari and others in order that they might not be slain by the Mughals. When it was morning the men of Bhirpul fought with the Mughals who were fastened in the mountains. Sayyid Mirzá fled and went into the fort of Bhirpul. About 80 Mughals, men of note were slain in this affair. Muhammad Nazir and Mirzá Qarrá Bahádur were captured. The rest of the army came to Bahrámgalla. When Mirzá Haidar heard of this he was sorely vexed and ordered all the silver vessels to be broken and the coin now current in Kashmir was struck from them. Jahángir Mákari at this time got into favour and the estates of Husain Mákari were bestowed upon him. Tradespeople had horses and outfits given to them and were made soldiers. After this news came that Mulla Abdullah, hearing of the exodus of the Kashmiris, was coming to Kashmir. When he got near to Bárámula the Kashmiris crowded on him and slew him. Khwájah Qásim was slain in Little Tibet. Muhammad Nazir was imprisoned in Rájáori. The Kashmiris leaving Bahrám-galla came to Hambarapur. Mirzá Haidar was thus forced to fight them and he came to Indarkot. He had with him only a thousand men. With him were Mughal nobles who had 700 men more. The whole took up a position in Shaháb-ud-Dinpur. Daulat Chakk and Gházi Khán Chakk went to Hambarapur to help Idi Ziná and coming from that place assembled in Khánpur. Mirzá Haidar took up his position in the plain of Khálidgarh near Srinagar. Fath Chakk, whose father had been slain by the Mughals, Khwájah Bahrám brought, with 3,000 men to Indarkot to revenge his father's death. They burned all the palaces of Mirzá Haidar in the Safá gardens. When Mirzá Haidar heard of this he said, “I have not brought this from Káshgar that I might by the grace of God, again build it.” Jai Ali in revenge burnt the palaces of Zain-ul-Abidin in Suryápur, but this did not please Mirzá Haidar and the army burnt the palaces of Idi Ziná and Nauroz Chakk in Srinagar. Mirzá Haidar himself took up a position in Khánpur in which place was a willow tree under which 22 horsemen could stand. If one branch of this tree were shaken the whole tree was moved. At last the Kashmiris came from Khánpur and took up a position at Adnipur and not more than a distance of two kos remained between the two armies. Mirzá Haidar determined to make a night attack on the enemy. He first of all made his own younger brother Mirzá Abdur Rahmán his heir-apparent and inaugurated him, then getting his men into order he prepared for the night attack. It so happened that the night was very cloudy and when he got to the tent of Khwájah Háji who was the soul of the rebellion and the agent of the Mirzá, the darkness hid everything. Sháh Nazar a cuirassier of Mirzá Haidar said, “When I shot an arrow the voice of the Mirzá fell on my ear, saying, ‘you are at fault.’ I then knew that the arrow had accidentally struck the Mirzá.” It is also said that a butcher shot him in the thigh with an arrow. In another tradition it is stated that Kamál Kuka killed him with a sword. But except an arrow-wound in his heart no other thing was visible. In reality this is the sum of the traditions. When morning dawned it became noised abroad amongst the Kashmiris that a Mughal was lying slain in their camp. When Khwájah Háji came to view the corpse, he said it was that of Haidar. He held up the head from the earth but nothing but the last breath remained. He moved his eyes and gave up the ghost. After this the Mughals fled to Indarkot and the Kashmiris buried the corpse of Haidar and then pursued the Mughals. They took refuge in Indarkot and for three days defended themselves. On the fourth day Muhammad Rumi loaded the cannon with copper coins and fired them on the enemy. Every one who was struck with them died. At last, however, Khánmai, the widow of Mirzá Haidar, and her sister Khánji spoke to the Mughals and said, ‘Inasmuch as Mirzá Haidar has departed from our midst, it would be better to make peace with the Kashmiris.” The Mughals agreed to this and sent Amir Khán, builder, to the Kashmiris to ask for peace. The Kashmiris were pleased at this and wrote a letter with oath and covenant that they would not persecute the Mughals any more. The government of Haidar Turk lasted for ten years.

Názuk Sháh. 3rd Time.—When the doors of the fort were opened, the Kashmiris went into the treasury of Mirzá Haidar and plundered it, taking away the beautiful and delicate garments it contained. The family of the Mirzá was taken to Srinagar and placed in the hands of Manujá. The Kashmiri chiefs then divided Kashmir between themselves. Daulat Chakk got the pargannah of Deosar, Gházi Khán the pargannah of Wáhi; Yusuf Chakk and Bahrám Chakk obtained Kamráj. Khwájah Háji the wakil of the Mirzá took a lákh of shawls and the whole of the nobles of Kashmir, but especially Idi Ziná, took the government of the province into their hands. Názuk Sháh as a kind of shadow of a king was upheld in name. In truth Idi Ziná was king.

SOME inquiries regarding the Karáwánás, which were very kindly made for me in Khorasán by Mr. Maula Bakhsh, K.B., Attaché at the Meshed Consulate General, have resulted, it would seem, in tracing some of the posterity of the Karáwánás. Mr. Maula Bakhsh writes from near Asterabad:—“Only the other day, while passing through the Mána district of Bujnurd, I heard of a village called Samandarra or Kárnás. This excited my curiosity and, on inquiry, I found that the village derived its name from its Kárnás inhabitants, about thirty families of whom (the total population of the village) are settled there. In the Gurgán country again, which extends from Dáhana-i-Gurgán on the east, to the Gunbad-i-Kábus (or Káus) on the west, on both banks of the Gurgán river, and is occupied by the Goklán Turkomans, I found about fifty families of Kárnás, and was told that there were some families in Khiva also.

“These people speak Turki now, and are considered part of the Goklán Turkomans. They, however, say they are Chingiz-Kháni Moghuls, and are no doubt the descendants of the same Kárnás, or Karávanás, who took such a prominent part in the Moghul victories in Persia.

“The word Kárnás, I was told by a learned Goklan Mullah, means Tir-andáz , or Shikári (i.e., Archer or Hunter) and was applied to this tribe of Moghuls on account of their professional skill in shooting, which apparently secured them an important place in the army. In Turki the word Kárnás means Shikam-parast—literally ‘belly worshippers,’ which implies avarice. This term is in use at present, and I was told, by a Kázi of Bujnurd, that it is sometimes used by way of reproach… The Kárnás people in Mána and Gurgán say it is the name of their tribe, and they can give no other explanation.”

Although the modern name has become curiously abbreviated, there appears to be little reason to doubt that these Kárnás, or “shooters,” represent, at any rate, the “artillerists” of Wassáf (see pp. 76, 77, Introduction).

IN Section IV. of the Introduction I have endeavoured to show that the so-called Moghuls in the fifteenth century, and even in the first half of the sixteenth, were in fact Mongols, and preserved, as far as the mass of the people was concerned, their racial characteristics. It had often been represented that they had become Turks both in type and language since about the days of Timur, but Mirza Haidar's evidence on the point was entirely opposed to this view, and it convinced me that the Moghuls of his day could not be classed as Turks. I endeavoured also to support the conclusion that the Mongol type could not be eradicated within a period of less than two centuries (see page 81) by such testimony as was forthcoming from other sources, and on general grounds of probability ;^494a but I was not aware at that time (1894) of the existence of certain Mongol settlements in Khorasan and Herat where living testimony to the correctness of my arguments might be seen even at the present day. It is, however, a fact that communities of Mongol race and type are living now—some 500 instead of barely 200 years beyond the time when they have been said to have been absorbed—who have nevertheless been Musul-mans for the whole of the longer period, and have inhabited a country where the surrounding population has been entirely Musulman, albeit of various nations. It was only on returning to Khorasan, in the spring of 1895, that I became acquainted with these relics of the days of Chingis Khan, and had an opportunity of visiting some of them.

The places where these settlements are to be found are: (1) Sangbast, about 20 miles south-east of Meshed; (2) Nasar-i-Kurlás, some 20 to 24 miles north of Turbat-i-Haidari, and about 10 miles east of the pass of Godár-i-Bédar on the main road leading thence to Meshed; (3) some other spots within the Turbat-i-Haidari district; (4) some odd settlements in the Kain district; (5) at Kuhsán, near the frontier of Herat and Khorasan; and (6) round about the city of Herat. The few particulars I have refer only to those at Sangbast and Nasar-i-Kurlás, and they may be given separately in the form of brief extracts from my notebook:

“The whole of the walled enclosure of modern Sangbast would contain perhaps about 200 people, mostly in a state of great poverty and occupying wretched hovels among the ruins. They are nearly all either Moghuls or Hazáras. Though the two races live together, it appears that they seldom intermarry, and usually neither of them intermarry with other inhabitants of Khorasan. Still, this has not been an invariable rule of late years, from what they themselves say and from the type of countenance of some of those who claim to be Moghuls. The bulk of those I saw had unmistakable Mongolian features—so much so, that it was difficult to distinguish them from the Hazáras. They spoke Mongol freely among themselves (though to what degree corrupted I know not) and their mullah professed to write it, but when he wrote some sentences, at my request, they were in Persian characters. He did not know the Mongol written character, but produced his Mongol words in Persian letters. A few words and phrases that I happened to remember the Mongol for, I repeated to him in Persian, and he translated them correctly, without a moment's hesitation.

“The mullah had no trace of the Mongol in his face. His story was that the few families at Sangbast came, within the present generation (some forty years ago), from Herat, where a fairly large number of Mongols, or Moghuls, are still to be found. There are also a few other small communities settled in this part of Khorasan, but all seemed to have come from Herat in very recent times. The first man I spoke to called himself and his people here Chingizi (pronounced Changizi) or Chingiz-Khani. The mullah, however, said it was a very common thing among the Moghuls to call themselves Chingizi,^494b but in reality this community was composed of Mangut—they were descendants of the Mangut, who were a tribe of Moghuls. He continued that there were many other Moghul tribes, besides the Mangut, of whom he recited the following:—

The two last can hardly be the names of Mongol tribes in any case; and it is evident, moreover, from some of the other names in his list, that the mullah is not clear as to who are Moghuls and who are not. Neither Uzbegs nor Manguts were Moghuls, for instance; and if his people here are really Manguts, how do they come to speak Mongol? The mullah added that the Hazára or Barbari were also a branch of the Moghuls, but he knew nothing of their origin, or how they came to be settled in Afghanistan.

“The Karawánás are known by name to the Moghuls. All those present recognised it immediately I mentioned it, but pronounced it Karaonás, exactly as written by Marco Polo. They could give no explanation of the name or of who the Karaonás were, though the mullah believed them to have been a section of the Moghuls. They seemed to know of none now-a-days in existence.”

“At Nasar-i-Kurlás the Moghuls also give themselves the name of ‘Chingizi.’ They maintain that 400 years ago they came from ‘Turkistan’ to the number of 12,000. Of these, 5000 settled about Herat and Kuhsán, 5000 in Kain, and 2000 in the Turbat-i-Haidari district.^494c At that time all were nomads—tent-dwellers. During the reign of Nádir Sháh (say the middle of the 18th century) the Turbat-i-Haidari communities became settled in houses at the spot now known as Nasar-i-Kurlás.

“Kurlás, they say, is the tribal name; but their head man holds a firmán dated 1119 Hijra, from Sháh Husain Safani, in which the following four tribes are mentioned:—

though in the body of the document certain Yákubi are mentioned ‘in addition’ to the rest. This firmán endorses one issued by Sháh Táhmásp dated 1071 Hijra.^494d The firmán of Husain remits taxes from the above tribesmen, who are described as Il—or nomad tribesmen.

“The name Nasar or Nasr means the ‘cold side’ or Yelák, the opposite to which is (commonly in Khorasan) called Aftáb Ruh, or, vulgarly, Pitau, which is only a corruption of Aftáb.^494e Thus Aftáb Ruh would mean ‘Facing the Sun,’ and Nasar ‘Back to the Sun,’ or ‘Looking North.’

“The Kurlás Moghuls say that the Moghuls at Kuhsán call themselves Chaghatai, but that they are really Kurlás Moghuls.

“The Kurlás at Nasar put their own number at about 150 families, and in neighbouring villages at some fifty families more; but these figures are probably in excess of the reality. They seem to retain comparatively little of the Mongol language.

“In the Kain region the number is said now to be 2000 to 3000 families, some of whom, however, appear to be settled in Sistan. They are still known as Kurlás and Moghul.”

In connection with these Moghul communities in Khorasan, and with the remarks on the Hazára at p. 80 (Introduction), of the Tárikh-i-Rashidi, it may perhaps be worth while to mention the view of the origin of his people which was held by a chief of the Hazára of Turbat-i-Jám, who died in 1894. The pith of a statement which he made to my munshi (Mirza Abdulla) was that the present Hazára belonged to one of the chief sections, or largest tribes, of the Moghuls. They rebelled against Chingiz Khan, who ordered them to be removed from Moghulistan to the Kohistán of Kabul. This order was being carried out, but Chingiz died just as the Hazára had crossed the Oxus. One of Chingiz's sons [descendant may be meant] moved part of them to the Kohistán of Kabul; but some effected their escape and settled in Bádghis.

With regard to the modern use of the names Hazára and Barbari, it may not be out of place to explain here that in Afghanistan the former is used exclusively, as far as I am aware. It is applied to all Hazáras, and the word Barbari is never heard. In Persia the two names refer to one and the same race, but the distinction is between (1) those members of it who have remained in the Hazáraját of Afghanistan, and are Shiah by religion; and (2) those who have migrated into Persia, and are usually Sunni. The former (contradictory though it may seem) are known as Barbari and the latter as Hazára. No Hazára or Barbari, it may be added, should properly be classed among the Chahár Aimák (or Four Tribes) as is so often done. These consist, according to all local authorities, of the Jamshidi, the Timuri, the Taimuni, and the Firuz-Kuhi, who are all distinct from the Hazára nation, as well in descent as in type and other respects.