Akbar himself sat down before the fortress, whilst he sent another body of troops to make conquests in the vicinity, for the Ráná, despairing of success, had fled to the jungles. But if he pressed the siege vigorously, the Rájpúts defended themselves with equal courage and obstinacy. Never had Akbar met such sturdy warriors. As their pertinacity increased, so likewise did his pride and resolution. At length the breach was reported practicable, and on a night in the month of March, Akbar ordered the assault. He had a stand erected for himself, whence he could watch and direct the operations. As he sat there, his gun in his hand, he observed the gallant Rájpúts assembling in the breach, led by their capable commander, prepared to give his troops a warm reception. The distance between his stand and the breach was, as the crow flies, but short, for the river alone ran between the two.
By the light of the torches, Akbar easily recognised the Rájpút general, and believing him to be within distance, he fired and killed him on the spot. This fortunate shot, despatched whilst the hostile parties were approaching one another, so discouraged the Rájpúts, that at the critical moment they made but a poor defence. They rallied indeed subsequently, but it was too late, and though they then exerted themselves to the utmost, they could not regain the lost advantage. When the day dawned, Chitor was in the possession of Akbar. In gratitude for its victory Akbar, in pursuance of a vow he had made before he began the siege, made a pilgrimage on
