A rich Begum, the widow of a wealthy Arab merchant, had long suffered from a severe illness, and had tried every medical prescription within her reach without relief.  On a certain night she dreamed that a Syaad pilgrim from India, who had taken up his abode at the serai outside the town, possessed a medicine which would restore her to health.  She had faith in her dream, and sent a polite message to the Syaad, who was described minutely by the particulars of her dream.  Meer Hadjee Shah attended the summons, but assured the lady who conversed with him, that he was not acquainted with medicine; true, he had a simple preparation, which enabled him to benefit a fellow pilgrim, when by circumstances no better adviser could be found:  he then offered her the powder, giving directions how to use it, and left her.  In the evening a handsome dinner was conveyed by this lady’s orders to Meer Hadjee Shah, which he accepted with gratitude to God, and for several days this was repeated, proving a sensible benefit to him, and to others equally destitute of the means of present provision, who were abiding at the serai.

In the course of a week he was again summoned to attend the Begum, who was entirely cured of her long illness, which she attributed solely to the medicine he had left with her, and she now desired to prove her gratitude by a pecuniary compensation.  He was too much gratified at the efficacy of his simple remedy, to require further recompense than the opportunity he had enjoyed of rendering himself useful to a fellow-creature, and would have refused the reward tendered, but the lady had resolved not to be outdone in generosity; and finding how he was circumstanced by another channel, she made so many earnest appeals, that he at last consented to accept as much as would defray his expenses for the journey to the next place he was on the point of embarking for, where he expected to meet with his Indian friends, and a supply of cash.

On one occasion, he was exposed to danger from a tiger, but, to use his own words, ’as my trust was placed faithfully in God, so was I preserved by Divine favour’.  The anecdote relative to that event, I cannot pass over, and therefore I relate it, as near as I recollect, in his own words:—­’I was at Lucknow during the reign of the Nuwaub, Shujah ood Dowlah,[4] who delighted much in field sports; on one occasion it was announced that he intended to hunt tigers, and orders were issued to the nobility and his courtiers, requiring their attendance on elephants, to accompany him on a certain day.  The preparations were made on a grand scale, and excited a lively interest throughout the city.  I had never been present at a tiger hunt, and I felt my usual ambition to share in the adventures of that day too irresistible to be conquered by suggestions of prudence; and accordingly I went, on horseback, accompanied by a friend about my own age, falling into the rear of the Nuwaub’s cavalcade which was far more splendid than any thing I had before witnessed, the train of elephants richly caparisoned, on which were seated in their gold or silver howdahs, the whole strength of the Court in rich dresses.