by their repentant general Tuhawwar Khán, who was at once decapitated; the Rájput army melted away; and Prince Akbar, with a following of 500 men, fled to the Deccan (June, 1681), and became the guest of the Maráthá chief at Ráhirí, whence he eventually sailed for Persia, and never again set foot in the realm of his fathers.
The Rájput snake was scotched, but far from killed. The insults which had been offered to their chiefs and their religion, the ruthless and unnecessary severity of Aurangzíb's campaigns in their country, left a sore which never healed. A race which had been the right arm of the Mughal empire at the beginning of the reign was now hopelessly alienated, and never again served the throne without distrust. The war went on. The Mughals ravaged the rich lands of Údaipúr, and the Rájputs retaliated by throwing down mosques and insulting the Muslims. The cities were indeed in the hands of Aurangzíb, but the mountain defiles were thronged with implacable foes, who lost no opportunity of dealing a blow at the invaders. The Rána of Údaipúr, who was the chief sufferer on the Rájput side, succeeded at last in making an honourable peace with Aurangzíb, who was tired of the struggle and anxious to give his whole mind to his affairs in the Deccan. The hated jizya was not even named in the treaty; a small cession of territory was made by the Rána as an indemnity for siding with Prince Akbar; and Jaswant Singh's son, the young Rája of Jodhpúr, was acknowledged heir to his
