The 16th of December I visited the king, who was just returned from his sports, having all his game laid out before him, both fish and fowl.  He desired me to take my choice, and then distributed all the rest among his nobles.  I found him sitting on his throne, having a beggar at his feet, a poor silly old man, all in rags and ashes, attended on by a young one.  The country abounds in these professed poor and holy men, who are held in great reverence, and who, in voluntary sufferings and mortified chastisements of their bodies, exceed all the boasted performances of heretics and idolaters in all ages and countries.  With this miserable wretch, who was cloathed in rags, crowned with feathers, and covered, with filth, his majesty conversed for about an hour, with such kindness, as shewed a humility not common among kings.  All this time the beggar sat before the king, which is not even permitted to his son.  The beggar gave the king as a present, a cake made by himself of coarse grain, burnt on the coals, and all foul with ashes; which yet the king accepted, broke off a piece and eat it, which a dainty person would hardly have done.  He then wrapt up the rest in a clout, and put it into the poor man’s bosom, and sending for 100 rupees, he poured them into the beggar’s lap, gathering up with his own hands any that fell past, and giving them to him.  When his collation or banquet was brought in, whatsoever he took to eat, he gave half of to the beggar.  Rising, after many humiliations and charities, and the old wretch not being nimble, he took him up in his arms, though a dainty person would have scrupled to touch him, and embraced him three times, laying his hand on his heart and calling him father, and so left him, all of us greatly admiring such virtue in a heathen prince.  This I mention with emulation and sorrow; wishing, as we have the true vine, that we should not produce bastard grapes, or that this zeal in an unbeliever were guided by the true light of the gospel.

The 23d, being about three cosses short of a city called Rantepoor, [Rantampoor,] where it was supposed the king would rest, and consult what way to take in his farther progress, he suddenly turned off towards Mundu, but without declaring his purpose.  I am of opinion, he took this way for fear of the plague at Agra, rather than from any purpose of being near the army; for we only marched every other day no more than four cosses, and with such a train of baggage as was almost impossible to be kept in any degree of order.

The 26th we passed through woods and over mountains, torn with bushes and tired by the incommodiousness of an almost impassable way, in which many camels perished, and many persons, wearied of these difficulties, went away to Agra, and all complained.  In this laborious day’s march, I lost my tents and carts, but by midnight I again fell in with them.  The king now rested two days, as the leskar could not again recover its order in less time; many of the king’s women, and thousands of camels, carts, and coaches, being left in the woody mountains, where they could neither procure food nor water.  The king himself got through upon a small elephant, which beast can climb up rocks, and get through such difficult passes, that no horse or other animal I have seen can follow.  The 29th we encamped beside the river Chambet, [Chumbull.]