The tale of the death of S͟hajāʿat K͟hān is a very strange affair. After he had performed such services and Islām K͟hān had given him leave to go to the Sarkar of Orissa, one night on the road he was riding on a female elephant chaukandī-dār[29] (? in a square howdah or four-pillared canopy), and had given a young eunuch a place behind him. When he left his camp they had fastened up an elephant that was in heat on the road. From the noise of the horses’ hoofs and the movement of the horsemen he attempted to break his chain. On this account a great noise and confusion took place. When this noise reached the ear of the eunuch, he in a state of bewilderment awoke S͟hajāʿat K͟hān, who was asleep or in the insensibility of wine, and said: “An elephant in heat has got loose and is coming in this direction.” As soon as he heard this he became confused and threw himself down from the front of the chaukandi. When he threw himself off his toe struck against a stone and was torn open, and he died in two or three days of that same wound. In short, from hearing this affair I was completely bewildered. That a brave man on the mere hearing of a cry or a word coming from a child should become so confused and throw himself down without control from the top of an elephant is in truth a matter of amazement. The news of this event reached me on the 19th of the month of Tīr. I consoled his sons with kindnesses and the conferring of offices. If this accident had not happened to him, as he had done notable service, he would have obtained exaltation with greater favours and kindnesses.
“One cannot strive against destiny.”
Islām K͟hān had sent 160 male and female elephants from Bengal; they were brought before me and placed in my private elephant stables. Rāja Tekchand, the Raja of Kumaon, asked for leave to depart. As in the time of my father there had been given to his father 100 horses, I gave him the same number as well as an elephant, and while he was at Court bestowed on him dresses of honour and a jewelled dagger. Also to his brothers I gave dresses of honour and horses. I presented him with his territory according to previous arrangements, and he went back to his home happy and successful.
It happened incidentally that this verse of the Amīru-l-umarā was quoted:—
“Pass, O Messiah, o’er the heads of us slain by love;
Thy restoring one life is worth a hundred murders.”[30]
As I have a poetical disposition I sometimes intentionally and sometimes involuntarily compose couplets and quatrains. So the following couplet came into my head:—
“Turn not thy cheek, without thee I cannot live a moment;
For thee to break one heart is equal a hundred murders.”
When I had recited this, everyone who had a poetical vein composed a couplet in the same mode. Mullā ʿAlī Aḥmad,[31] the seal-engraver, of whom an account has been given previously, had not said badly—