The hamlet of Bilaita, which produced but a few good mangoes, and for its population a few Minas, was the ostensible cause of dispute. The chief of Bundi, either deeming it within his territory, or desiring to consider it so, threw up a fortification, in which he placed a garrison to overawe the freebooters, who were instigated by the discontented chiefs of Mewar to represent this as an infringement of their prince’s rights. Accordingly, the Rana marched with all his chieftains, and a mercenary [498] band of Sindis, to the disputed point, whence he invited the Bundi prince, Ajit, to his camp. He came, and the Rana was so pleased with his manners and conduct, that Bilaita and its mango grove were totally forgotten. Spring was at hand; the joyous month of Phalgun, when it was necessary to open the year with a sacrifice of the boar to Gauri (see Vol. II. p. 660). The young Hara, in return for the courtesies of the Rana, invited him to open the Aheria, within the _ramnas_ or preserves of Bundi. The invitation was accepted; the prince of the Sesodias, according to usage, distributed the green turbans and scarfs, and on the appointed day, with a brilliant cavalcade, repaired to the heights of Nanta. =Murder of Rāna Ari Singh.=—The abdicated Rao, who had lately returned from Badarinath, no sooner heard of the projected hunt, than he dispatched a special messenger to remind his son of the anathema of the Sati. The impetuous Ajit replied that it was impossible to recall his invitation on such pusillanimous grounds. The morning came, and the Rana, filled with sentiments of friendship for the young Rao, rode with him to the field. But the preceding evening, the minister of Mewar had waited on the Rao, and in language the most insulting told him to surrender Bilaita, or he would send a body of Sindis to place him in restraint, and he was vile enough to insinuate that he was merely the organ of his prince’s commands. This rankled in the mind of the Rao throughout the day; and when the sport was over, and he had the Rana’s leave to depart, a sudden idea passed across his mind of the intended degradation, and an incipient resolution to anticipate this disgrace induced him to return. The Rana, unconscious of any offence, received his young friend with a smile, repeated his permission to retire, and observed that they should soon meet again. Irresolute, and overcome by this affable behaviour, his half-formed intent was abandoned, and again he bowed and withdrew. But scarcely had he gone a few paces when, as if ashamed of himself, he summoned up the powers of revenge, and rushed, spear in hand, upon his victim. With such unerring force did he ply it, that the head of the lance, after passing through the Rana, was transfixed in the neck of his steed. The wounded prince had merely time to exclaim, as he regarded the assassin on whom he had lavished his friendship, “Oh, Hara! what have you done?” when the Indargarh chief finished the treachery with his sword.