"This move of The Khan's brought little benefit--he took no fort and beat no foe; he went out and went back.
During my stay in Tashkent, I endured much poverty and humiliation. I had no country or hope of one! Most of my retainers dispersed; those who remained were unable to move about with me because of their destitution. If I went to my uncle The Khan's gate, I went sometimes with one man, sometimes with two. It was well he was no stranger but one of my own blood. After showing myself in his presence, I used to go to Shah Begim's, entering her house bareheaded and barefoot just as if it were my own.
This uncertainty and want of house and home drove me at last to despair. I thought, 'It would be better to go off by myself than live in such misery; better to go as far as my feet can carry me than for others to see me in such poverty and humiliation. Having settled on going to China, I resolved to head off on my own. From my childhood up I had wished to visit China but had not been able to manage it because of the responsibilities of ruling and other obligations. Now sovereignty itself was gone, and my mother, for her part, was re-united with her (step)-mother and her younger brother. The hindrances to my journey had been removed; my anxiety for my mother was dispelled.... Once in Moghulistan and Turfan my reins would be in my own hands, without check or anxiety. I confided my scheme in no one. Why not? Because it was impossible for me to mention such a scheme to my mother, and also because it was with other expectations of me that my few companions in exile and privation had sacrificed all for me and endured a like change of fortune. To speak to them of such a scheme would be no pleasure either....
At this crisis a man came from Kichik Khan to say that he was actually on his way [to Tashkent]. This brought my scheme to naught. ...We all went out to greet him with appropriate ceremony. ...
Next day, my uncle Kichik Khan bestowed on me arms of his own, a saddled horse from his private stable, a full suit of Moghul attire, a Moghul cap, a long embroidered coat of Chinese satin, and Chinese armour. In the old fashion, they had hung on the left side, a haversack and an outer bag, and three or four things such as women usually hang on their collars--perfume-holders and various receptacles; in the same way, three or four things were hung on the right side.
From there we went to Tashkent. My uncle Ulugh Khan also had come out for the meeting, some 12 to 15 miles along the road. He had had an awning set up in a chosen spot and was seated there. Kichik Khan went up directly in front of him; as he approached, he rode in a circle, from right to left, round him; then dismounted before him. After advancing to the place of interview, he nine times bent the knee; that done, he approached. Ulugh Khan, in his turn, had risen when Kichik Khan drew near. They looked long at one another and long stood in close embrace. The Younger Khan again bent the knee nine times when retiring, many times also on offering his gift; after that, he went and sat down.
All his men had adorned themselves in Moghul fashion. There they were in Moghul caps, long coats of embroidered Chinese satin, and had Moghul quivers and saddles of green shagreen-leather, and Moghul horses adorned in a their distinctive fashion. He had brought rather few men, probably somewhere between 1000 and 2000. He was a man of singular manners, a mighty master of the sword, and brave. His preferred weapon was the sword. He used to say that arms include the shash-par (six-flanged mace), the pyazi (rugged mace), the kistin, the tabar-zin (saddle-hatchet) and the baltu (battle-axe), all of which leave a mark only from the point with which they make contact. The sword, however, works from point to hilt. He never parted with his keen-edged sword; it was either at his waist or in his hand. He was a little rustic and rough-of-speech, through having grown up in an out-of-the-way place..."