The Cambridge History of India, Vol. III: Turks and Afghans v3.c20.433

v3.c20.433

Neither his people’s distress nor his preoccupation in relieving it could restrain the king from indulging his vain dreams of world-empire, and in 1337–38, the year after the foundation of Sargadwārī, he perpetrated one of his greatest acts of folly. The dream of conquering Transoxiana and Persia had faded, but there were other lands to subdue. Beyond the vast mountain chain which bounded his kingdom on the north-east lay the mysterious land of Tibet, and beyond that again the great empire of China, and an army which could traverse the mountains might, Muhammad believed, take those two countries by surprise. Of the nature of the country and the inhabitants, the narrow passes, the perilous mountain paths, the sheer precipices, and the bitter cold to be endured by troops bred in the scorching plains of India he could form no idea, and he persuaded himself that dread of his wrath would carry his troops over all obstacles. An army of 100,000 horse and a large number of foot was assembled at Delhi under the command of Malik Nīkpāī, who held the honorary post of chief of the inkstand-bearers, and was dispatched on the desperate adventure. The troops marched by way of Nāgarkot, or Kāngra, the capture of which in this year is recorded in an ode of Badr-i-Chāch, and entered the mountains after plundering and devastating the villages on their lower slopes. They advanced by a narrow road, which would admit no more than one horseman at a time, along the precipitous mountain side, but safely reached the stronghold, which Ibn Batūtah calls Warangal, of the local chieftain, where they halted after their toilsome journey. Here they were overtaken by the heavy and drenching rains of the mountains, which spread disease among men and horses and destroyed large numbers of both. The officers sought and received permission to lead their men back to the plains, there to await the end of the rainy season, when a second attempt might be made to traverse the mountains, and they set out with all their plunder, but the mountaineers had assembled to harass their retreat and occupied the gorges and defiles. Great stones and felled trees were hurled from the heights on the retreating host, laden with its plunder, stragglers were cut off, the passes were held and stoutly defended, and the highlanders so thoroughly performed their task that they destroyed the army almost to a man, and recovered all the plunder. Nīkpāī, two other officers, and about ten horsemen were all who returned to Delhi and the king was deeply humiliated. He was obliged to conclude with the mountaineers who had destroyed his army a treaty of peace, in which the only condition to his advantage was an undertaking to pay tribute for the land cultivated by them in the plains, which was at all times liable to be overrun by his troops.