It must have been before those throneless times[1215] that Ḥabība-sult̤ān Begīm, the mother of Sl. Aḥmad Mīrzā’s youngest daughter Ma‘ṣūma-sult̤ān Begīm, brought her daughter into Herī. One day when I was visiting my Ākā, Ma‘ṣūma-sult̤ān Begīm came there with her mother and at once felt arise in her a great inclination towards me. Private messengers having been sent, my Ākā and my Yīnkā, as I used to call Pāyanda-sult̤ān Begīm Fol. 192.and Habība-sult̤ān Begīm, settled between them that the latter should bring her daughter after me to Kābul.[1216]
(n. Bābur leaves Khurāsān.)
Very pressingly had Muḥ. Barandūq Beg and Ẕū’n-nūn Arghūn said, “Winter here!” but they had given me no winter-quarters nor had they made any winter-arrangements for me. Winter came on; snow fell on the mountains between us and Kābul; anxiety grew about Kābul; no winter-quarters were offered, no arrangements made! As we could not speak out, of necessity we left Herī!
On the pretext of finding winter-quarters, we got out of the town on the 7th day of the month of Sha‘bān (Dec. 24th 1506 AD.), and went to near Bādghīs. Such were our slowness and our tarryings that the Ramẓān-moon was seen a few marches only beyond the Langar of Mīr Ghiyās̤.[1217] Of our braves who were absent on various affairs, some joined us, some followed us into Kābul 20 days or a month later, some stayed in Herī and took service with the Mīrzās. One of these last was Sayyidīm ‘Alī the gate-ward, who became Badī‘u’z-zamān Mīrzā’s retainer. To no servant of Khusrau Shāh had I shewn so much favour as to him; he had been given Ghaznī when Jahāngīr Mīrzā abandoned it, and in it when he came away with the army, had left his younger brother Dost-i-anjū (?) Shaikh. There were in truthFol. 192b. no better men amongst Khusrau Shāh’s retainers than this man Sayyidīm ‘Alī the gate-ward and Muḥibb-i-‘alī the armourer. Sayyidīm was of excellent nature and manners, a bold swordsman, a singularly competent and methodical man. His house was never without company and assembly; he was greatly generous, had wit and charm, a variety of talk and story, and was a sweet-natured, good-humoured, ingenious, fun-loving person. His fault was that he practised vice and pederasty. He may have swerved from the Faith; may also have been a hypocrite in his dealings; some of what seemed double-dealing people attributed to his jokes, but, still, there must have been a something![1218] When Badī‘u’z-zamān Mīrzā had let Shaibāq Khān take Herī and had gone to Shāh Beg (Arghūn), he had Sayyidīm ‘Alī thrown into the Harmand because of his double-dealing words spoken between the Mīrzā and Shāh Beg. Muḥibb-i-‘alī’s story will come into the narrative of events hereafter to be written.
(o. A perilous mountain-journey.)
From the Langar of Mīr Ghiyās̤ we had ourselves guided past the border-villages of Gharjistān to Chach-charān.[1219] From the almshouse to Gharjistān was an unbroken sheet of snow; it was deeper further on; near Chach-charān itself it was above the horses’ knees. Chach-charān depended on Ẕū’n-nūn Arghūn; his retainer Mīr Jān-aīrdī was in it now; from him we took, on payment, the whole of Ẕū’n-nūn Beg’s store of provisions. A march or two further on, the snow was very deep, being above Fol. 193.the stirrup, indeed in many places the horses’ feet did not touch the ground.
We had consulted at the Langar of Mīr Ghiyās̤ which road to take for return to Kābul; most of us agreed in saying, “It is winter, the mountain-road is difficult and dangerous; the Qandahār road, though a little longer, is safe and easy.” Qāsim Beg said, “That road is long; you will go by this one.” As he made much dispute, we took the mountain-road.
Our guide was a Pashāī named Pīr Sult̤ān (Old sultan?). Whether it was through old age, whether from want of heart, whether because of the deep snow, he lost the road and could not guide us. As we were on this route under the insistance of Qāsim Beg, he and his sons, for his name’s sake, dismounted, trampled the snow down, found the road again and took the lead. One day the snow was so deep and the way so uncertain that we could not go on; there being no help for it, back we turned, dismounted where there was fuel, picked out 60 or 70 good men and sent them down the valley in our tracks to fetch any one soever of the Hazāra, wintering in the valley-bottom, who might shew us the road. That place could not be left till our men returned three or four days later. They brought no Fol. 193b.guide; once more we sent Sult̤ān Pashāī ahead and, putting our trust in God, again took the road by which we had come back from where it was lost. Much misery and hardship were endured in those few days, more than at any time of my life. In that stress I composed the following opening couplet:—
Is there one cruel turn of Fortune’s wheel unseen of me?