From the most honoured lips of my father I heard as follows: “In early youth I had taken two or three cups (of wine), and had mounted a full-blooded (mast) elephant. Though I was in my senses, and the elephant in very good training, and was under my control, I pretended that I was out of my senses, and that the elephant was refractory and vicious, and that I was making him charge the people. After that, I sent for another elephant, and made the two fight. They fought, and in doing so went to the head of the bridge that had been made over the Jumna. It happened that the other elephant ran away, and as there was no other escape, he went towards the bridge. The elephant I was on pursued him, and although I had him under control, and he would have halted at the slightest signal, I thought that if I held him back from the bridge the people would regard those drunken ways (of mine) as a sham, and would believe that neither was I beside myself, nor was the elephant violent and headstrong. Such pretences on the part of kings are disapproved of, and so after imploring the aid of God—Glory be to Him—I did not restrain my elephant. Both of them went upon the bridge, and as it was made of boats, whenever an elephant put his forefeet on the edge of a boat, half of it sank, and the other half stood up. At each step there came the thought that the lashings might give way. People on seeing this were overwhelmed in the sea of perplexity and alarm. As the care and guardianship of the Great and Glorious God is ever and in all places the protection of this suppliant, both elephants crossed the bridge in safety.”[105]
On Thursday, the 25th, a wine-feast was held on the banks of the Māhī, and some of my intimate servants who had admittance to such assemblies had their hearts delighted by brimming cups and ample favours. Certainly it was an entrancing halting-ground. I stayed here four days for two reasons—first, because of the beauty of the spot, and secondly in order that the people might not be confused in crossing the river.
On Sunday, the 28th, I marched from the bank of the Māhī. On Monday I marched again. On this day a strange sight was witnessed. The pair of sāras that had had young ones had been brought from Aḥmadābād on Thursday (the 25th). In the Court of the royal enclosure, which had been placed on the bank of a tank, they were walking about with their young ones. By chance both the male and female raised a cry, and a pair of wild sāras hearing it, and crying out from the other side of the tank, came flying towards them. The male with the male, and the female with the female, engaged in a fight, and although some people were standing about, the birds paid no heed to them. The eunuchs who had been told off to protect them hastened to seize them. One clung to the male and the other to the female. He who had caught the male kept hold of it after much struggling, but the one who seized the female could not hold her, and she escaped from his hand. I with my own hand put rings in his beak and on his legs, and set him free. Both went and settled in their own place.[106] Whenever the domestic sāras raised a cry they responded. I saw a sight of this kind in wild antelopes when I had gone to hunt in the pargana of Karnāl. About thirty of my huntsmen and servants were in attendance when a black buck with some does came in sight, and we let loose the decoy-antelope[107] to fight him. They butted two or three times, and then the decoy came back. A second time I wanted to put a noose on its horns and to let it go, that it might capture (the wild one). Meanwhile the wild antelope, in the excess of its rage, not looking at the crowd of men, ran without regard to anything, and butting the tame buck two or three times fought with it till it fled. The wild antelope thereupon made its escape.
On this day news came of the death of ʿInāyat K. He was one of my intimate attendants. As he was addicted to opium, and when he had the chance, to drinking as well, by degrees he became maddened with wine. As he was weakly built, he took more than he could digest, and was attacked by the disease of diarrhœa, and in this weak state he two or three times fainted. By my order Ḥakīm Ruknā applied remedies, but whatever methods were resorted to gave no profit. At the same time a strange hunger came over him, and although the doctor exerted himself in order that he should not eat more than once in twenty-four hours, he could not restrain himself. He also would throw[108] himself like a madman on water and fire until he fell into a bad[109] state of body. At last he became dropsical, and exceedingly low and weak. Some days before this he had petitioned that he might go to Agra. I ordered him to come into my presence and obtain leave. They put him into a palanquin and brought him. He appeared so low and weak that I was astonished.
“He was skin drawn over bones.”
Or rather his bones, too, had dissolved. Though painters have striven much in drawing an emaciated face, yet I have never seen anything like this, nor even approaching to it. Good God, can a son of man come to such a shape and fashion? These two couplets of Ustād[110] occurred as appropriate:
“If my shadow do not hold my leg
I shall not be able to stand till the Resurrection
Nor, from weakness, does my soul see a refuge
Where it may for a while rest on my lips.”