220 B. Bandyopadhyaya— Hamir Rasa, [No. 3, 
“Why not,”’ replied Ala-uddin, “ make Hamir understand what I say ? 
Why extend the flame of war which feeds on many Rajpits and Muham- 
madans? He may reign in the territories of Ranthambor. I am not 
averse to that, if he will only bring the exile Muhummad Shah to my feet: 
else sure as my name is Alé-uddin I will curb his pride. IfI break through 
my resolution while Hamir is glorying in the firmness of his, I shall never 
be worthy the name of ‘Emperor.’ It is certain that of two contending 
parties one comes off the gainer. Listen, Randhir, listen to my word. I 
know every creek and corner of the dominions of Hamir. By whose orders 
has he been authorized to enjoy to this day the possession of the four forts— 
Ranthambor, Chitor, Narwal and Gwaliar? He has never served me; 
neither has he ever so far condescended as to make me an obeisance. 
Mountains may move, the sun may rise in the West, and many such other 
unnatural things might happen, but I, mighty Al4-uddin, will never return 
to Delhi without the exile. If I do so, I shall be a coward and emphatically 
the greatest of all cowards, not worthy to sit on an imperial throne.” (Turn- 
ing to his ranks), “ Press hard the seige, my brave warriors, and carry the 
fort.” 
Randhir bade farewell to the fort. He gave-alms to the Brahmans, 
bowed down his head before the sun and joined his hands as if he awaited 
his orders. Then, bending at the name of Hamir, he rushed forth very furi- 
ously at the head of his heroes, warriors and soldiers. His 10,000 veterans 
were in the front line. Then followed the horsemen, the riders upon 
elephants. Cannons boomed from the fort. Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah ! 
shouted the Chohan troops. Then, swift as flashes of lightning, they 
fell upon the Mubhammadan ranks, as fell the mighty Raghava upon the 
rakshasas of Ceylon. ‘The heroes looked ferocious in anger. Steady in 
fight, all of them vowed to abide by the virtues of their clans. There 
was a standing cannon fire from both sides. The fort and its walls were 
breached. On the earth it rained terrible showers of flame. Dark clouds, 
produced by the smoke, hung on the atmosphere. Wherever there was a 
circle of men, shots came in that direction. 
“ Come, fight with us, ye Muhammadan wrestlers, if any of you be wor- 
thy the name,” cried out the brave veterans of Randhir, elated with pride. 
They fell to wrestling. The battle raged, horse fought with horse, foot with 
foot, and elephant with elephant. There was an incessant shower of shots. 
Some lost their bodies, while others their heads, some their hands, while others 
their legs. So profound was the darkness spread over the field, that it could 
not be known whether it was day or night. Arrows flew fast piercing many 
a horse and elephant. The strong steel mail was no protection from 
their sharp points. Some soldiers were stabbed by the violent strokes of 
