The expedition lasted about four months, from January to May, 1505, and besides furnishing grain, bullocks,—and occupation,—gave Bábar a clearer knowledge of the people he had to deal with and the difficulties of the country. The whole route had been a perpetual skirmish with the Afgháns, and Bábar was obliged to be exceedingly careful to avoid surprises. He kept his men under arms at night, ready for an attack, and organized regular rounds of the pickets; if a man was not found on the alert at his post, his nose was slit. The result of his caution was that he was never surprised, and every time he encountered the Afgháns, he beat them, on his own showing they would then come to him as suppliants, 'with grass between their teeth, as who should say, "I am thine ox."' After a victory, he cut off their heads, and made a 'minaret' of them, like his ancestor Tímúr. His route was studded with these human milestones. At other times he would spare their lives, when he thought it good policy.
The difficulties of the country exceeded his expectations. Toiling over the mountains, he had to abandon his state-pavilion for want of carriage; the horses died from exhaustion; the rains flooded the tents knee-deep, and it was a worn-out army that at last emerged at the 'Standing Water.' Bábar, who had cheerfully composed an ode on the way, was overpowered with delight as he surveyed the grand sheet of water, which stretched to the horizon:—
'The water seemed to touch the sky, and the further hills
