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"Oh, G.o.d! Creator of the World! My soul I broke upon the Wheel of Evil sore.
Cleanse me from sin, my G.o.d, and make me whole, Else cursed shall I be for evermore."
He felt better after thus committing his penitence to writing. So with renewed vitality, and gathering his force together as he went along, he crossed the Sind river to find the moment ripe for his emprise.
India was in a turmoil, divided by two rival claimants to its throne.
The whole country was over-run by armies, more or less independent; the whilom Governor of Lah.o.r.e at the head of one, numbering over forty thousand men, chiefly Afghans.
It broke up, however, by sheer invertebrate disintegration, ere Babar could reach it, and he pa.s.sed on, unopposed, by the lower Kashmir hills, by Bhimber and Jhelum till he arrived at Sialkot, keeping all the while close to the skirts of the mountains where retreat and safety might be found if needs be.
But now, before him, lay the wide plain of the Punjab. Here for the first time in his life, Babar faced a real galloping country where hors.e.m.e.n could, indeed, charge to some purpose. But with flat plain behind him it was necessary that the plain should be friendly. To ensure this needed delay, he had to negotiate, to threaten, to pacify.
Half-a-dozen petty chiefs had to be brought to their senses, and those senses were so dull, so rude, so provokingly stupid. What for instance could be said to a man who actually claimed to be seated in the Presence, when n.o.bles and princes of the blood-royal stood by in all humility?
Babar's language on such occasions was always frank, truthful, utterly unanswerable.
"The Most-Clement hath settled _his_ hash," remarked the Prime-Minister with a smile, when the old ex-governor of Lah.o.r.e, having been caught, was brought before the Emperor, with the two swords which the rebel had boastfully hung round his neck as sign of unyielding opposition, still dangling under his chin. This by Babar's own order, to emphasise the trouncing which sent the old sinner away unharmed, but sadder and wiser.
"Yea!" replied the Emperor quite gravely. "Yet I told him naught but what he deserved most truly, for I had done much for him. And, as thou sawest, he had no answer. He did, indeed, stammer out a few words, but not at all to the purpose, for what reply could he make to such confounding truths?"
"Of a surety, none," a.s.sented his hearers, still with a smile. Folk had to smile often over Babar's frank, outspoken clarity.
So, by slow degrees, and not without many a drinking-party, Sirhind was reached; and here the Emperor's soul was refreshed by the sight of a rivulet of running water! It was almost unbelievable; and no doubt he drank a libation of something stronger in its honour.
Then, but a few miles farther on, he came upon an extremely beautiful and delightful place with a charming climate, where, perforce, he had to halt a few days if only to explore the neighbouring country which promised well. Doubtless he was close to the southern spurs of the Sewalik hills, and here, in one of the side valleys, he found himself on the bank of one of those oleander-set streams, where the b.u.t.terflies get mixed up with strange sweet-scented flowering shrubs.
One of those streams which in the dry season are beds of boulders with a half-hidden trickle of water amongst the stones; but which, in the rains, swell extremely and rush down in a perfect torrent to join that strange Gaggar river which rises forty feet in a night, and sweeps away, resistless, to a still stranger fate--to total disappearance in the sands of the Rajputana desert. A fate which must have impressed the Emperor with his keen appreciation of the poetry in life.
And here, in early March, these same flowering shrubs must have been budding, the b.u.t.terflies must have been fluttering over the new russet shoots of the maiden-hair fern; and in sheltered spots Babar's favourite Judas trees must have been in bloom.
The temptation was too great! He called another halt, and set to work, not to drink, but to make a garden; while, not to lose time, he sent out scouts and spies to bring him intelligence as to his enemy's movements. Doubtless as he laid out his favourite Four-cornered Garden, he drank success to it, and dreamt happy, if confused, dreams of stone-watercourses and bright fountains after the Kabul pattern; for he wrote and told Maham all about it. And he told her also that her son Humayon was bearing himself like a hero and had gone out with a light force to reconnoitre and disperse some wandering bands of marauders; but that he would be back again of course, for his eighteenth birthday on the 6th, when there was to be a great festival on the occasion of the first beard-cutting; such a festival as would have delighted the heart of the old grandmother Isan-daulet--on whom be peace!
And his thoughts waxed soft and young again with the remembrance of that shaving of his own--on his eighteenth birthday--on the upland meadow close to the Roof-of-the-World when there was but one real tent in his encampment, and his following had consisted of more than one and less than two hundred tatterdemalions. Times had changed; and yet he was defying Fate to the full as much as in those far away days; for against his twelve thousand troops all told, the whole strength of Northern India was gathering itself upon the plain above Delhi. That fateful plain where hundreds of thousands of men had already given up their lives in battles which for their time had decided the fate of Hindustan.
What would that fate be now?
He was not without thought; but he was without fear. He meant to win.
Meanwhile till the fateful moment of fight arrived there was the Garden! When that was fairly started, news came that the enemy had begun to advance slowly. It was time therefore to be on the move. But the broad, calm stream of the Jumna river was not to be allowed to slip past without being pressed into the service of pleasure, so, while the army held down the bank for two marches Babar sailed down in an awning-covered boat and explored many a side stream where the bottle-nosed alligators lay on the sand banks like logs, and great flocks of flamingoes, white in the distance, rose startled into flaming red clouds. And in the still evenings so cool, so pleasant, Babar, who had a genius for the comfortable, ordered aromatic confections to be served, and the party floated down stream in dreamy content, trailing their hands in the refres.h.i.+ng water and singing low-toned songs in a whisper, until, suddenly the boat touched a sandbank, and Shah-Hussan went over on his back, laid hold of Kali-Gokultash, who was cutting a melon, and both fell into the water, the latter leaving the knife he held, stuck point down in the deck!
And what is more, he refused to regain the boat, but continued swimming in his best gown and dress of honour till the sh.o.r.e was reached!
But there--a fine figure of a young man, handsomer in face than his father ever was, taller in height, yet without the latter's inexpressible charm--stood Humayon to join in the laughter for a few moments, but then to give news which ended fooling.
The advance party of Sultan-Ibrahim's army was within touch.
Babar was ready on the instant. He was out of the boat before it was moored, giving orders, short, sharp, stern.
The time for play was over.
CHAPTER II
"It is the time of roses; Green are the young wheat fields; The onward march of the foes is Hid by a dark night's s.h.i.+eld.
Over the sand hills, sun-dried, Thirsting for blood of men, An hundred thousand on one side, On the other only ten!
What will the Dawn be showing, Fate of the Parched Mouth?
Will the Cup-of-Death be flowing With blood of North or South?"
All that night the Emperor sat in his tent working out his plan of attack. Even his brief connection with the red-cap Persian Army had given him an insight into a new science of war; for though it was brutal in the details of its methods, these methods had been learnt from the Turks; who in their turn had learnt them still farther West.
And Babar was a born general. He had that firm touch on the pulse of his army by which he knew its moments of weakness, and when to seize and utilise the fierce throb of fight-fever, that comes at times to the blood of the most peaceful.
So the Emperor made his plan first; and then, being wise, bowed to the wisdom of his ancestors by calling together a general council of all who had experience and knowledge; but not, be it noted, until every part of his scheme was in order and ready. Not until right and left wings, and centre, had been apportioned; not until the gun carriages--seven hundred in all--had been _laagered_ together with twisted hide ropes as with chains; not till the tale of hurdle breast-works and sandbags was complete.
Then he laid his plan before the Council; and naturally, it was approved. Mindful, also, of the prejudices of the rank and file, he performed the old Turkhi ceremony of the "_vim_" or full dress review, at which, as General, he had to estimate the total number of men at his command.
"The most revered father was out by a good thousand or two, to-day,"
said Humayon, who, arrayed in gorgeous trappings, looked a hero after a woman's heart. "He was wont to be more accurate."
Babar smiled gaily. "A thousand or two to the good is better than to the bad, when men's hearts fail them," he replied. "And some, see you, are in great terror and alarm. For sure, trepidation and fear are always unbecoming, since what G.o.d Almighty has decreed, men cannot alter. Still I blame them not greatly. Of a truth they have reason.
They have come a four-months' journey from their own country; they have to engage an enemy over an hundred thousand strong; and worse than all, a strange enemy, understanding not even their language, poor souls!"
He was full of commiseration; for all that he abated not one jot or t.i.ttle of his plan, and his very firmness brought a measure of confidence even to the timid.
The little town of Paniput reached, Babar took up his position there, the city and suburbs protecting his right. The left he entrenched, leaving the centre free for his _laager_ of guns and breastworks, behind which stood the matchlock men. But at every bow-shot distance apart, a s.p.a.ce was left through which flanking parties of cavalry might issue forth to charge. When all was ready the army began to feel more secure, and more than one general ventured the opinion that with a position so well fortified, the enemy would think twice about attacking.
But Babar shook his head. "Consider not," he said, "of our present enemy as of our past ones. Judge not of Ibrahim-Sultan, as of our Princes and Khans in the north who _knew what they were about_, who could discriminate when to advance, when to retreat. This young man has shown himself of no experience. Already I find him negligent in movement. He marches without order, he halts without plan, and will doubtless engage in battle without forethought: _therefore_ we must be prepared."
It was an anxious time, that wait of six days for a.s.sault, but, despite the skirmis.h.i.+ng attempts made by small parties of cavalry to induce the enemy to engage, nothing happened. A night attack carried out against Babar's own judgment, fared no better; but, mercifully, it ended without the loss of a single man, though one bold soldier--a boon companion of the Emperor's--was wounded.
That day at sunset there was a false alarm, and the army was drawn up ready for action; only, however, to be drawn off again and led back to camp. Again about midnight, the call-to-arms uprose, and for half-an-hour all was confusion and dismay, many of the troops being new to the work, and unaccustomed to such alarms.
"Lo! it will steady their nerves," said Babar lightly, with another gay smile, "and by G.o.d who made me! even mine are somewhat agee this night. Go! saddle me Rakush, slave! I am for a ride round for an hour or so."
A minute or two later he was on his favourite charger pacing his way silently over what would be the battle-field. And as he pa.s.sed on, his horse's feet sinking in the thirsty sand, or echoing on the hard lime-stone soil, his mind was busy over the chances of the future. He meant to win; but many a man whose bones lay buried beneath that useless waste--useless for all save battle--had had as high a hope as his, as steady a determination.
How many thousands--nay! hundreds of thousands of hopes had not that vast sterile plain of Paniput ended for ever? The common folk told him that on dark nights you could hear, rising from the ground, the voices of the dead men below, the clash of arms, the noise of fight. Mayhap it was so. Mayhap all the sounds of life went on, and on, and on.
Tears, love, peace, war, life, death; all were the same in the end.
All were part of that Great Whole which somehow, always managed to escape before you could grip at it.
He reined up his horse to listen; but only the familiar sound of the night came to his ear. The distant and persistent baying of a dog, the booming whirr of some night insect as it flew unseen, the faint rustle of a dawn wind over the sand.
It was time he were going back to work; back to face what the day might bring forth.
It brought what he awaited. When the light was such that one object could just be distinguished from another, patrols galloped in; the enemy were advancing in order of battle.
There was no confusion this time. "Use doth breed a habit in a man,"