His Highness then showed me a block of very beautiful clear ice, which he said had been obtained from a cavern near Haibuk. He asked me to take the block away and test its purity. There was another Durbar on July 1st, and by this time the “microbes” had got firm hold of me. I went to the Durbar. His Highness had heard that I was ill, and I told him I had not with me the medicine I wished to take. His Highness asked, Would I take native medicine if he prescribed it? I said I should be most grateful to His Highness if he would honour me so far. His Highness gave some directions to a Hakim, who presently brought a small jar. The Amîr told me it contained a medicine he was himself taking. With a little silver spoon he took some dark-looking confection out of the jar, made a bolus of it, and gave it to me. It tasted hot and very nice. There was no more in the pot, and he sent the Hakim away to make some fresh. It was then that my mind became troubled within me, for I knew the Hakim loved me not. [Sidenote: The Amîr’s Courtesy.] Presently the jar was brought back, and as they were about to give it me, His Highness asked for it. He scooped a little out with the spoon, and was raising it to his lips, when the Hakim stopped him and whispered in his ear. The Amîr turned and looked at him, and the Hakim hurried away with a very red face. By-and-bye he returned with the jar. Again the Amîr took it, and, looking at me, he raised a spoonful to his lips and swallowed it. He then gave the jar into the hands of the Armenian, who immediately brought it to me. One need not live in the East to understand the courtesy and kindness of the Amîr’s action; but to appreciate fully the honour he did me, one must be conversant with Oriental customs. To taste a medicine before handing it to the patient is the duty of an Oriental physician when he is attending the King. I was a servant--but also a stranger and a guest--and the Amîr treated me as though I had been a Prince. I cannot say whether the medicine would have cured me or not, for in two days’ time we had to be on the march again: which was bad for me. Then came a time, the details of which I do not care to recall too vividly to my mind, for the “microbes” were just as venomous and wicked as if they had been Hindustani Interpreters at the Afghan Court, and that is saying much. Instead of being in bed, I had to jog along on horseback half the day. Instead of a sick man’s diet, I got a little cold meat and bread when and how I could; sometimes after a fast of ten or eleven hours. Under these circumstances, of what use could the Amîr’s or anyone else’s medicine be?