The Bābur-nāma in English (Memoirs of Bābur)
us. Without waiting to know whether they were many or few, we mounted
and rode off. There were 20 or 25; we, as has been said, were eight. If
we had known their number at first, we should have made a good stand
against them but we thought they would not be pursuing us, unless they
had good support behind. A [Sidenote: Fol. 114b.] fleeing foe, even if
he be many, cannot face a few pursuers, for as the saying is, '_Hāī_ is
enough for the beaten ranks.'[661]
Khān-qulī said, 'This will never do! They will take us all. From amongst
the horses there are, you take two good ones and go quickly on with
Mīrzā Qulī _Kūkūldāsh_, each with a led horse. May-be you will get
away.' He did not speak ill; as there was no fighting to hand, there was
a chance of safety in doing as he said, but it really would not have
looked well to leave any man alone, without a horse, amongst his foes.
In the end they all dropped off, one by one, of themselves. My horse was
a little tired; Khān-qulī dismounted and gave me his; I jumped off at
once and mounted his, he mine. Just then they unhorsed Sayyidī Qarā's
`Abdu'l-qadūs and Nāṣir's Shāham who had fallen behind. Khān-qulī also
was left. It was no time to profer help or defence; on it was gone, at
the full speed of our mounts. The horses began to flag; Dost Beg's
failed and stopped. Mine began to tire; Qaṃbar-`alī got off and gave me
his; I mounted his, he mine. He was left. Khwāja Ḥusainī was a lame man;
he turned aside to the higher ground. I was left with Mīrzā Qulī
_Kūkūldāsh_. Our [Sidenote: Fol. 115.] horses could not possibly gallop,
they trotted. His began to flag. Said I, 'What will become of me, if you
fall behind? Come along! let's live or die together.' Several times I
looked back at him; at last he said, 'My horse is done! It can't go on.
Never mind me! You go on, perhaps you will get away.' It was a miserable
position for me; he remained behind, I was alone.
Two of the enemy were in sight, one Bābā of Sairām, the other
Banda-`alī. They gained on me; my horse was done; the mountains were
still 2 miles (1 _kuroh_) off. A pile of rock was in my path. Thought I
to myself, 'My horse is worn out and the hills are still somewhat far
away; which way should I go? In my quiver are at least 20 arrows; should
I dismount and shoot them off from this pile of rock?' Then again, I
thought I might reach the hills and once there, stick a few arrows in my
belt and scramble up. I had a good deal of confidence in my feet and
went on, with this plan in mind. My horse could not possibly trot; the
two men came within arrow's reach. [Sidenote: Fol. 115b.] For my own
sake sparing my arrows, I did not shoot; they, out of caution, came no
nearer. By sunset I was near the hills. Suddenly they called out, 'Where
are you going in this fashion? Jahāngīr Mīrzā has been brought in a
prisoner; Nāṣir Mīrzā also is in their hands.' I made no reply and went
on towards the hills. When a good distance further had been gone, they
spoke again, this time more respectfully, dismounting to speak. I gave
no ear to them but went on up a glen till, at the Bed-time prayer, I
reached a rock as big as a house. Going behind it, I saw there were
places to be jumped, where no horse could go. They dismounted again and
began to speak like servants and courteously. Said they, 'Where are you
going in this fashion, without a road and in the dark? Sl. Aḥmad Taṃbal
will make you _pādshāh_.' They swore this. Said I, 'My mind is not easy
as to that. I cannot go to him. [Sidenote: Fol. 116.] If you think to do
me timely service, years may pass before you have such another chance.
Guide me to a road by which I can go to The Khān's presence. If you
will do this, I will shew you favour and kindness greater than your
heart's-desire. If you will not do it, go back the way you came; that
also would be to serve me well.' Said they, 'Would to God we had never
come! But since we are here, after following you in the way we have
done, how can we go back from you? If you will not go with us, we are at
your service, wherever you go.' Said I, 'Swear that you speak the
truth.' They, for their part, made solemn oath upon the Holy Book.
I at once confided in them and said, 'People have shewn me a road
through a broad valley, somewhere near this glen; take me to it.' Spite
of their oath, my trust in them was not so complete but that I gave them
the lead and followed. After 2 to 4 miles (1-2 _kuroh_), we came to the
bed of a torrent. 'This will not be the road for the broad valley,' I
said. They drew back, saying, 'That road is a long way ahead,' but it
really must have been the one we were on and they have been concealing
the fact, in order to deceive me. About half through the night, we
reached another stream. This time they said, 'We have been negligent; it
now seems to us that the road through the broad valley is behind.' Said
I, 'What is to be done?' Said they, 'The Ghawā road is certainly in
front; by it people cross for Far-kat.[662] They guided me for that and
we went on till in [Sidenote: Fol. 116b.] the third watch of the night
we reached the Karnān gully which comes down from Ghawā. Here Bābā
Sairāmī said, 'Stay here a little while I look along the Ghawā road.' He
came back after a time and said, 'Some men have gone along that road,
led by one wearing a Mughūl cap; there is no going that way.' I took
alarm at these words. There I was, at dawn, in the middle of the
cultivated land, far from the road I wanted to take. Said I, 'Guide me
to where I can hide today, and tonight when you will have laid hands on
something for the horses, lead me to cross the Khujand-water and along
its further bank.' Said they, 'Over there, on the upland, there might be
hiding.'
Banda-`alī was Commandant in Karnān. 'There is no doing without food for
ourselves or our horses;' he said, 'let me go into Karnān and bring
what I can find.' We stopped 2 miles (1 _kuroh_) out of Karnān; he went
on. He was a long time away; near dawn there was no sign of him. The day
had shot when he hurried up, bringing three loaves of bread but no corn
for the horses. Each of us putting a loaf into the breast of his tunic,
we went quickly up the rise, tethered our horses there in the open
valley and went to higher ground, each to keep watch.
[Sidenote: Fol. 117.] Near mid-day, Aḥmad the Falconer went along the
Ghawā road for Akhsī. I thought of calling to him and of saying, with
promise and fair word, 'You take those horses,' for they had had a day
and a night's strain and struggle, without corn, and were utterly done.
But then again, we were a little uneasy as we did not entirely trust
him. We decided that, as the men Bābā Sairāmī had seen on the road would
be in Karnān that night, the two with me should fetch one of their
horses for each of us, and that then we should go each his own way.
At mid-day, a something glittering was seen on a horse, as far away as
eye can reach. We were not able to make out at all what it was. It must
have been Muḥ. Bāqir Beg himself; he had been with us in Akhsī and when
we got out and scattered, he must have come this way and have been
moving then to a hiding-place.[663]
Banda-`alī and Bābā Sairāmī said, 'The horses have had no corn for two
days and two nights; let us go down into the dale and put them there to
graze.' Accordingly we rode down and put them to the grass. At the
Afternoon Prayer, a horseman passed along the rising-ground where we had
been. We recognized him for Qādīr-bīrdī, the head-man of Ghawā. 'Call
him,' I said. They called; he came. After questioning him, and speaking
to him of favour and kindness, and giving him promise and fair word, I
sent him to bring rope, and a grass-hook, and an axe, and material for
crossing water,[664] and corn [Sidenote: Fol. 117b.] for the horses, and
food and, if it were possible, other horses. We made tryst with him for
that same spot at the Bed-time Prayer.
Near the Evening Prayer, a horseman passed from the direction of Karnān
for Ghawā. 'Who are you?' we asked. He made some reply. He must have
been Muḥ. Bāqir Beg himself, on his way from where we had seen him
earlier, going at night-fall to some other hiding-place, but he so
changed his voice that, though he had been years with me, I did not know
it. It would have been well if I had recognized him and he had joined
me. His passing caused much anxiety and alarm; tryst could not be kept
with Qādīr-bīrdī of Ghawā. Banda-`alī said, 'There are retired gardens
in the suburbs of Karnān where no one will suspect us of being; let us
go there and send to Qādīr-bīrdī and have him brought there.' With this
idea, we mounted and went to the Karnān suburbs. It was winter and very
cold. They found a worn, coarse sheepskin coat and brought it to me; I
put it on. They brought me a bowl of millet-porridge; I ate it and was
wonderfully refreshed. 'Have you sent off the man to Qādīr-bīrdī?' said
I to Banda-`alī. 'I have sent,' he said. But those luckless, clownish
mannikins seem to have agreed together to send the man to Taṃbal in
Akhsī!
We went into a house and for awhile my eyes closed in sleep. Those
mannikins artfully said to me, 'You must not bestir yourself to leave
Karnān till there is news of Qādīr-bīrdī but this house is right amongst
the suburbs; on the outskirts the orchards are empty; no-one will
suspect if we go [Sidenote: Fol. 118.] there.' Accordingly we mounted at
mid-night and went to a distant orchard. Bābā Sairāmī kept watch from
the roof of a house. Near mid-day he came down and said, 'Commandant
Yūsuf is coming.' Great fear fell upon me! 'Find out,' I said, 'whether
he comes because he knows about me.' He went and after some exchange of
words, came back and said, 'He says he met a foot-soldier in the Gate of
Akhsī who said to him, "The pādshāh is in such a place," that he told
no-one, put the man with Walī the Treasurer whom he had made prisoner in
the fight, and then gallopped off here.' Said I, 'How does it strike
you?' 'They are all your servants,' he said, 'you must go. What else can
you do? They will make you their ruler.' Said I, 'After such rebellion
and fighting, with what confidence could I go?' We were saying this,
when Yūsuf knelt before me, saying, 'Why should it be hidden? Sl. Aḥmad
Taṃbal has no news of you, but Shaikh Bāyazīd has and he sent me here.'
On hearing this, my state of mind was miserable indeed, for well is it
understood that nothing in the world is worse than fear for one's life.
'Tell the truth!' I said, 'if the affair is likely to go on to worse, I
will make [Sidenote: Fol. 118b.] ablution.' Yūsuf swore oaths, but who
would trust them? I knew the helplessness of my position. I rose and
went to a corner of the garden, saying to myself, 'If a man live a
hundred years or a thousand years, at the last nothing ...'[665]
TRANSLATOR'S NOTE.
Friends are likely to have rescued Bābur from his dangerous isolation.
His presence in Karnān was known both in Ghawā and in Akhsī; Muḥ. Bāqir
Beg was at hand (f. 117); some of those he had dropped in his flight
would follow him when their horses had had rest; Jahāngīr was somewhere
north of the river with the half of Bābur's former force (f. 112); The
Khāns, with their long-extended line of march, may have been on the main
road through or near Karnān. If Yūsuf took Bābur as a prisoner along the
Akhsī road, there were these various chances of his meeting friends.
His danger was evaded; he joined his uncles and was with them, leading
1000 men (Sh. N. p. 268), when they were defeated at Archīān just before
or in the season of Cancer, _i.e._ _circa_ June (T. R. p. 164). What he
was doing between the winter cold of Karnān (f. 117b) and June might
have been known from his lost pages. Muḥ. Ṣāliḥ writes at length of one