The soldiery and townspeople became more and more distressed. Trusted men of my close circle began to let themselves down from the ramparts and get away; begs of known name and old family servants were amongst them, such as Pīr Wais, Shaikh Wais and Wais _Lāgharī_.[571] Of help from any side we utterly despaired; no hope was left in any quarter; our supplies and provisions were wretched, what there was was coming to an end; no more came in. Meantime Shaibāq Khān interjected talk of peace.[572] Little ear would have been given to his talk of peace, if there had been hope or food from any side. It had to be! a sort of peace was made and we took our departure from the town, by the Shaikh-zāda's Gate, somewhere about midnight. (_b. Bābur leaves Samarkand._) I took my mother Khānīm out with me; two other women-folk went too, one was Bīshka (var. Peshka)-i-Khalīfa, the other, Mīnglīk _Kūkūldāsh_.[573] At this exodus, my elder sister, Khān-zāda Begīm fell into Shaibāq Khān's hands.[574] In the darkness of that night we lost our way[575] and wandered about amongst the main irrigation channels of Soghd. At shoot of dawn, after a hundred difficulties, we got past Khwāja Dīdār. At the Sunnat Prayer we scrambled up the rising-ground of Qarā-būgh. [Sidenote: Fol. 95b.] From the north slope of Qarā-būgh we hurried on past the foot of Judūk village and dropped down into Yīlān-aūtī. On the road I raced with Qāsim Beg and Qaṃbar-`alī (the Skinner); my horse was leading when I, thinking to look at theirs behind, twisted myself round; the girth may have slackened, for my saddle turned and I was thrown on my head to the ground. Although I at once got up and remounted, my brain did not steady till the evening; till then this world and what went on appeared to me like things felt and seen in a dream or fancy. Towards afternoon we dismounted in Yīlān-aūtī, there killed a horse, spitted and roasted its flesh, rested our horses awhile and rode on. Very weary, we reached Khalīla-village before the dawn and dismounted. From there it was gone on to Dīzak. In Dīzak just then was Ḥāfiẓ Muḥ. _Dūldāī's_ son, T̤āhir. There, in Dīzak, were fat meats, loaves of fine flour, plenty of sweet melons and abundance of excellent grapes. From what privation we came to such plenty! From what stress to what repose! From fear and hunger rest we won (_amānī tāptūq_); A fresh world's new-born life we won (_jahānī tāptūq_). From out our minds, death's dread was chased [Sidenote: Fol. 96.] (_rafa` būldī_); From our men the hunger-pang kept back (_dafa` būldī_).[576]