Our setting out this morning, after the camels were all laden and the men mounted, was retarded by the arrival of a queen of the desert, a beauty of the first rank, at least as regarded her dimensions. The lady, with really handsome features, was mounted upon a white bullock, which snorted violently under his immense burden. Nevertheless this luxurious specimen of womankind was sickly, and required the assistance of the tabíb, or “ne-meglán[202],” a title which Overweg had earned for himself by his doctoring, though his practice was rather of a remarkable kind; for he used generally to treat his patients, not according to the character of their sickness, but according to the days of the week on which they came. Thus he had one day of calomel, another of Dover’s powder, one of Epsom salts, one of magnesia, one of tartar emetic: the two remaining days being devoted to some other medicines; and it of course sometimes happened that the man who suffered from diarrhœa got Epsom salts, and he who required opening medicine was blessed with a dose of Dover’s powder. Of course my friend made numerous exceptions to this calendary method of treating disease, whenever time and circumstances allowed him to study more fully the state of a patient. However, in the hurry in which we just then were, he could scarcely make out what the imaginary or real infirmity of this lady was; and I cannot say what she got. She was certainly a woman of great authority, as the old chief himself was full of kind regards and deference to her. We were rather astonished that he exchanged here his brown mare for a lean white horse, the owners of which seemed, with good reason, excessively delighted with their bargain.