ling it down. As the strength of the person who went
first was generally exhausted after he had advanced a few paces, he
stood still, while another took his place. The ten, fifteen, or twenty
people who worked in trampling down the snow, next succeeded in dragging
on a horse without a rider. Drawing this horse aside, we brought on
another, and in this way ten, fifteen, or twenty of us contrived to
bring forward the horses of all our number. The rest of the troops, even
our best men, advanced along the road that had been beaten for them,
hanging their heads. This was no time for plaguing them or employing
authority. Every man who possesses spirit or emulation hastens to such
works of himself. Continuing to advance by a track which we beat in the
snow in this manner, we reached a cave at the foot of the Zirrin pass.
That day the storm of wind was dreadful. The snow fell in such
quantities that we all expected to meet death together. The cave seemed
to be small. I took a hoe and made for myself at the mouth of the cave a
resting-place about the size of a prayer-carpet. I dug down in the snow
as deep as my breast, and yet did not reach the ground. This hole
afforded me some shelter from the wind, and I sat down in it. Some
desired me to go into the cavern, but I would not go. I felt that for me
to be in a warm dwelling, while my men were in the, midst of snow and
drift,--for me to be within, enjoying sleep and ease, while my followers
were in trouble and distress,--would be inconsistent with what I owed
them, and a deviation from that society in suffering which was their
due. I continued, therefore, to sit in the drift.

_Ambition admits not of inaction;
The world is his who exerts himself;
In wisdom's eye, every condition
May find repose save royalty alone._

By leadership like this, the descendant of Tamerlane became the ruler of
Kabul. He celebrates its charms in verse:--

_Its verdure and flowers render Kabul, in spring, a heaven._--

but this kingdom was too small for a man of Baber's stamp. He used it as
a stepping-stone to the conquest of India (1526).

_Return a hundred thanks, O Baber! for the bounty of the merciful God
Has given you Sind, Hind, and numerous kingdoms;
If, unable to stand the heat, you long for cold,
You have only to recollect the frost and cold of Ghazni._

In spite of these verses, Baber did not love India, and his monarchy was
an exile to