These, I found, were to be the sending out of materials--silks, satins, and cloth; and jewellery of various kinds. My education, however, having been medical, I was not in any sense a business man, and it occurred to me that this was a suitable opportunity for acceding to the Armenian’s request, and taking him to London with me: he could attend to these matters better than I. [Sidenote: The Locusts.] A few days afterwards, therefore, I wrote to His Highness, and asked permission for the Armenian to accompany me to England. His Highness granted my request, and, when the time arrived, generously gave the Armenian two thousand rupees to pay his expenses. We did not, however, start on the journey so soon as I had expected, for His Highness desired me to paint his portrait again. Accordingly, a few days afterwards I went to the Palace, but I found on examination that His Highness had not recovered strength sufficiently to enable him to undergo the fatigue of sitting for a portrait. This seemed likely to put a stop to my home going for an indefinite time; until a thought struck me--why should not I paint a portrait from the photograph that the Sultana had given me. I said nothing to His Highness, but set to work. While I was working at this portrait I saw some extraordinary clouds come quivering along just above the tree tops. They seemed almost as though they were made up of myriads of little birds. I learnt what they were soon enough. The locusts had come. The year before I had seen in Turkestan swarms of little black birds, the only birds, they told me, that feed on locusts. The Amîr had made an order that all who killed these birds were to be fined. As, however, they had a habit of devouring mulberries as well as locusts, many of them were killed. Curiously enough the locusts did not settle in Kabul, though on the outskirts of the town one occasionally saw a tree leafless. They came from the direction of Peshawur, and at Jelalabad and other places on the way they had worked havoc. Towards the end of April the portrait was finished, and I went to the Palace to lay it before the Amîr. Entering the Palace gardens I met little Prince Mahomed Omer riding out on horseback surrounded by his guard, with his Lâla or Tutor walking by his side. He looked very dignified and proud as he sat his horse alone. The Lâla whispered to him, and he answered my bow by touching his cap: he was a year and eight months old. When I reached the Palace His Highness sent a Page to conduct me to one of the gardens where he said he should be sitting very shortly.