Swords From the East (68 page)

The Babar-nameh, or Story of the Tiger, has served as a literary masterpiece in Asia for four centuries. The most honored scholars and even reigning monarchs have copied it in different dialects of Persian and Turki. Because Babar told the truth about himself and told it clearly and well, the story is becoming a classic among Anglo-Saxons.`

Chapter I

The Lair of the Tiger

In the month of Junet
I set out from my homeland of Ferghana intending to pass through Khorassan, and halted at the summer pastures in the foothills. I here entered my twenty-third year and began to use the razor on my face.

The followers who still stood by me, great and small, were more than two hundred and less than three. Most of them were on foot, and shod with brogues, clubs in their hands and tattered cloaks over their shoulders. So poor were we that we had only two tents. My own I gave to my mother; and they pitched for me at every halting place a felt covering stretched over crosspoles, in which I took up my quarters. Though bound for the southern hills and a strange country, I was not without hope.

Jahangir Mirza was with me. Although it has been written, "Ten dervishes may sleep on one cloak, but two kings cannot rest in the same climate-" and although in the past there had been heart-burning and rivalry between my brother and myself, owing to our both desiring the throne-yet, at this time he had left his country to accompany me. He was my brother and dependent on me.

And messages began to arrive from the wandering Moghul tribes, that they desired to accompany the king.

So I left my encampment and marched against Kabul.'
In three or four marches we reached the Pass of Ghur, and here we had news that Shirkeh Arghun, the officer in whom Molcim had greatest confidence, had taken post with an army to intercept any who might come by this route.

The instant I received this information, between midday and afternoon prayers, we set out and marched all night, ascending the hill pass. Until this time I had never seen the star Suhail. But on reaching the top of the pass, Suhail*
appeared below to the south.

"That cannot be Suhail!" I said.

"It is, indeed," they answered, and one of the chieftains repeated this verse:

The sun was a spear's length high when we reached the foot of the valley and alighted from our horses. The party we sent in advance to reconnoiter-a number of enterprising young warriors-fell in with Shirkeh and instantly attacked him. They kept harassing him until reinforcements came up and completely routed his following. Shirkeh himself was dismounted and made prisoner with eighty or a hundred of his best men. I spared his life, and theirs, and they entered into my service.

At this stage the Hazaras of the desert came through a pass in the east to join me.t

After a general council in which the siege of Kabul was decided upon, we marched forward. From day to day I sent messengers to Molcim, the usurper who held the city; they brought back sometimes excuses, sometimes pleasant answers. But his real object all the while was to gain time. When I took Shirkeh prisoner he had sent gallopers to his father and brother elsewhere, and he now delayed, hoping to have aid from them.

One day I ordered the whole host-main body, right wing, and leftafter donning armor and clothing the horses in mail, to advance close up to the city walls. They were to display their arms and inflict some punishment on the town's garrison.

Jahangir Mirza, with the right wing, marched toward the gardens of the suburbs. As there was a river in front of the main body, I proceeded by some tombs and took station on a rise facing high ground. The advance parties crossed the river and galloped insultingly close up to the Currier's Gate.

Only a few of Mokim's men had come out of the gates; these could not stand their ground, but fled and sought shelter in the city. A throng of townspeople had ventured beyond the walls to the outer slope of the citadel in order to watch events. As these ran for shelter a great dust arose and many were trampled and fell down.

Between the river and the nearest gate, on the heights and in the highroad, Mokim's men had dug pits in which pointed stakes had been fixed and the whole covered over with grass. Sultan Kuli Chenak and several other cavaliers fell into these pits when they pushed on too quickly.

On the right wing one or two of my warriors exchanged a few sword strokes with members of the garrison who had sallied out. But they soon fell back, as they had no orders to engage in an attack.

The men in the town were now both alarmed and dispirited. Mokim, through some of his chieftains, offered to submit to me and to surrender Kabul. Upon this, he was brought before me and tendered his allegiance. I did all I could to dispel his uneasiness and received him with kindness. It was agreed that the next day he should march out with all his followers and property and yield the fortress. I appointed Jahangir Mirza and another officer with some of my most trusty servants to guard Mokim's family as well as Mokfm himself while he was leaving Kabul. So he set out with his train and departed in peace.

In the end of September, by the blessing of Almighty God, I gained possession of Kabul and Ghazni with all their provinces, without a battle or contest of any kind.

Kabul is surrounded on all sides by hills-the walls of the town extend up a hill. The skirts of the nearby heights are covered with gardens.

Here is both heat and cold. From Kabul you may go in a single day to a place where snow never falls, and in two hours you may reach a spot where snow is always found. In the summer nights you cannot sleep without a sheepskin coverlet. Though the snow falls very deep in winter, the cold is not intense.

The citadel itself is surprisingly high, overlooking the great lake and the lower meadows. These are very beautiful when the valleys are green. In the spring the brisk north wind blows incessantly-they call it the badi- perwan, the pleasant breeze. In the spring, too, the passes of the Hindu Kush to the north are closed, as in winter. The watercourses are in flood, and only for three or four months can the mountain tracks be used.

On the west lie the mountains of the Hazara and Nukdari tribes, to the south, Afghanistan,*
to the east, the Khyber Pass, Peshawar, and some of the countries of Hind'
And Kabul is one of the two great markets between Hindustan and Persia. The goods and horses of Khorassan, Irak, Roum, and Chin'
all come to Kabul.

And in Kabul are the tribes of all the mountains-Turks, Aimaks and Arabs, Tajiks and Afghans; in the bazaar a dozen tongues are spoken. The Afghans are great thieves and robbers, even in time of peace; they pray for war, and rarely had such an opportunity been offered them as now.

On every hand are rivers cold as ice, and pure, and gardens green, gay, and beautiful-with spreading plane trees that shelter agreeable spots. At the time when the shrubs are in flower, I do not know any place in the world to compare to it.

Inasmuch as it is shut in by natural ramparts, it is easy to defend and difficult to invade; yet, owing to its warlike tribes it is a country to be governed by the sword, not the pen. So many of the wandering clans had joined my standard that Kabul was unable to furnish them with necessary corn, horses, and money.

After mustering my army and questioning those officers who knew the country best, it was decided to make raids beyond the borders. Some advised that we should march against Khorassan; others, against Daman. It was at last agreed that we should eventually make a foray into Hindustan.

But in the next year my mother was seized with a slow fever, and blood was let without effect. A Khorassan physician attended her and gave her watermelons, but as her time was come, she died in six days and was received into the mercy of God. We carried her remains to the Garden of the New Year, and there Kasim and I committed them to earth.

During the period of mourning the tidings of the death of the Little Khan, my uncle, and of my grandmother, reached me. Our lamentation began anew, and great was our grief for the separation we suffered. After directing readings of the Koran and prayers to be offered up for the dead, we returned to our rule.

At this time there was such an earthquake that many ramparts of fortresses and many houses were shaken to the ground. Many people died when the houses fell upon them. One whole portion of a hillside broke off and slid the length of a bowshot, and a spring broke through, forming a well in the place where it had been. In other places the earth was so split that a person might have hid himself in the gaps.

A great cloud of dust rose from the tops of the mountains. Nur-alla, the lute player, happened to be entertaining me with the guitar at the time; he had also a lute with him. He caught up both instruments in his hands, but had so little control of himself that they knocked against each other.

Jahangir Mirza was at Tibah, in the upper veranda of a palace. The moment the earth began to quake he threw himself down and escaped without injury. One of his servants was on this same floor when the upper story fell on him. God preserved the man and he came to no harm.

That day there were thirty-three shocks, and for the space of a month the earth quivered two or three times every day and night. By great exertions my officers and warriors repaired the gaps in the walls of the fortress by the end of the month.*

Chapter II

The Terror of the Heights

In the month of June, tidings came from the Mirzas of Khorassan that Shaibani Khan had drawn the sword against them and was invading their country. So I set out for Khorassan to oppose the Uzbeks-mustering the great body of the army and pushing forward to the west in light array and with all speed.

How can any man refuse to give aid? How much better it is to go forward toward achievement and glory, even though life be lost. The wise have well called fame a second life!

On the journey, ambassadors came from Khorassan to urge me to join the Mirzas. What was to hinder me? I had marched eight hundred miles over the mountains with that very purpose.

The Mirzas had advanced as far as the river Murghab, and there I waited upon them. One of their kinsmen came out far to greet me; they were younger than he and ought to have come out farther to welcome me. Probably their delay was due to the last night's drinking-bout, and not to discourtesy.

It was agreed that they were to receive me formally at the Mirzas' Hall of Ceremony in the encampment-that I was to bow at once on entering and the elder prince was to advance to the edge of his dais to embrace me. As soon as I stepped into the Hall of Ceremony, I bowed and then advanced without stopping toward Badi'-ezzaman Mirza, who rose rather tardily to greet me. Kasim Beg, who was keenly alive to my honor-which he looked upon as his own-laid hold of my girdle and gave me a tug. I understood and advanced more slowly.

Although this was not a drinkingparty, wine was put before us in gold and silver goblets with the meat. At that time I drank no wine. The entertainment was wonderfully elegant. On their trays was every sort of delicacy-fowl, goose, and assorted dishes.

Indeed the entertainments of Badi'-ezzaman were celebrated, and certainly this party was free, easy, and unconstrained. I likewise went to a feast of Mazafar Mirza. When the wine began to take effect, one of the Amirs began to dance, and he danced extremely well. The dance was one of his own invention.

These Mirzas had wasted-as I soon learned-three or four months in marching from Herat, in getting together their forces, before reaching the river. The princes were very good hosts, and skilled in arranging a pleasure party; they had a turn for conversation and wit; yet they had no knowledge at all of carrying on a campaign, or any warlike operations. They were perfect strangers to a battle or the hazards of a warrior's life.

When a strong detachment of Uzbek plunderers came within reach, all the princes met and everyone talked. But with all this ado they could not manage to order out a light force to drive in the enemy foragers. I asked permission to lead out my men. Fearful of their own reputation if they suffered me to do this, they would not let me move.

Nothing was accomplished. Shaibani Khan, who had captured the frontier city of Balkh, went into winter quarters unmolested. The Mirzas came on horseback to my quarters and urged me to stay out the winter with them in Herat.

Now in all the habitable world there is not another city so splendid as Herat. I was persuaded to stay for awhile.

At first the princes quartered me in the New Garden; but as I did not like the place, they gave me a poet's dwelling and there I remained for the twenty days of my visit in Herat. Every day I went to perform salutation before the elder prince as custom required; but they were more concerned with entertainment than with customs of Genghis Khan, which had always been faithfully observed by my family.

Once we were carried to the Tereb-khana, the Pleasure House, in the midst of a delightful garden. Every part of this little edifice was covered by paintings. Two carpets were placed in a balcony, and Mazafar Mirza and I sat on one-my brother and a sultan on the other. At once the cupbearers began to supply everyone with pure wine, which they quaffed as if it had been the water of life. The party waxed warm. They took a fancy to make me drink, but when I excused myself, they did not press me.