The sheikh sent us three birds[37], which had been taken in their nests at Loggun: they are very scarce, and much esteemed, their flesh being used as a medicine for many disorders, placed hot to the part affected, particularly for an enlargement of the spleen. They feed on insects, fish, snakes, and serpents, the latter of which they have a particular instinct of discovering. This bird discovers their vicinity while yet many feet under ground, digs on the spot, destroys the nest, and feeds on the venomous inhabitant and its eggs: although larger than a turkey-cock, they were so young as to be unable to walk; indeed, the feathers were not all perfect, and I determined on endeavouring to rear one of them to more mature age and beauty. I had, indeed, already a little menagerie, which, if I would have allowed it, the sheikh would have added to daily, and I found in them great amusement—I might almost say much comfort. My collection consisted, besides my Loggun bird, of two monkeys, five parrots, a civet cat, a young ichneumon, and a still younger hyæna: they had all become sociable with each other, and with me, and had their separate corners allotted them in the inclosure that surrounded my hut, except the parrots and the monkeys, who were at liberty; and while sitting in the midst of them of a morning, with my mess of rice and milk, I have often cast my thoughts to England, and reflected with deep interest on the singular chances of life by which I was placed in a situation so nearly resembling the adventurous hero of my youthful sympathies, Robinson Crusoe.