nfantry, he drew off, and threw himself on the centre, commanded by
Bairam in person. That astute general had directed his archers, in
anticipation of such an attack, to direct their arrows at the faces
of the riders. One of these arrows pierced the eye of Hemu, who fell
back in his howdah, for the moment insensible. The fall of their
leader spread consternation among the followers. The attack
slackened, then ceased. The soldiers of Bairam soon converted the
cessation into a rout. The elephant on which Hemu rode, without a
driver--for the driver had been killed[3]--made off instinctively
towards the jungle. A nobleman, a follower and distant relative of
Bairam, Shah Kuli Mahram-i-Baharlu, followed the elephant, not
knowing who it was who rode it. Coming up with it and catching hold
of the rope on its neck, he discovered that it was the wounded Hemu
who had become his captive.[4] He led him to Bairam. Bairam took him
to the youthful prince, who throughout the day had shown courage and
conduct, but who had left the ordering of the battle to his Atalik.
The scene that followed is thus told by contemporary writers. Bairam
said to his master, as he presented to him the wounded general: 'This
is your first war: prove your sword on this infidel, for it will be a
meritorious deed.' {71} Akbar replied: 'He is now no better than a
dead man; how can I strike him? If he had sense and strength I would
try my sword (that is I would fight him).' On Akbar's refusal, Bairam
himself cut down the prisoner.

[Footnote 3: This is the generally received story, though Abulfazl
states that the driver, to save his own life, betrayed his master.
Elliot, vol. v. p. 253, note.]

[Footnote 4: Compare Elliot, vol. v. p. 253, and Blochmann's
_Ain-i-Akbari_, p. 359.]

Bairam sent his cavalry to pursue the enemy to Delhi, giving them no
respite, and the next day, marching the fifty-three miles without a
halt, the Mughal army entered the city. Thenceforward Akbar was
without a formidable rival in India. He occupied the position his
grandfather had occupied thirty years before. It remained to be seen
whether the boy would use the opportunity which his father and
grandfather had alike failed to grasp. To show the exact nature of
the task awaiting him, I propose to devote the next chapter to a
brief survey of the condition of India at the time of his accession,
and in that following to inquire how the boy of fourteen was likely
to benefit by the tutela