e, and
then stuck its sharp talons in the neck of another horse on which a
Pattaan soldier was seated: his horse plunged, kicked, threw his rider on
the ground with a violence that left him senseless, his open sabre falling
on the handle, which, like a miracle, was forced into the earth leaving
the point upwards in a slanting position, just clearing his neck by a few
inches.

'The tiger turned on the man with fury and wide-extended jaw, but was met
by the sabre point, and the Pattaan's red turban, which fell at the
instant; the tiger endeavouring to extricate himself from the entanglement,
the sabre entered deeper through his jaw, from which he had but just
released himself, when a ball from the Nuwaub's rifle entered his side and
he slank into the grass, where he was followed and soon dispatched.'

In his travels Meer Hadjee Shah had often been exposed to the dangerous
consequences of the plague; but (as he declares), he was always preserved
from the contagion through the same protecting care of Divine Providence
which had followed him throughout his life. He has been often in the very
cities where it raged with awful violence, yet neither himself nor those
who were of his party, were ever attacked by that scourge. On one occasion,
he was, with a large party of pilgrims, halting for several days together
at a place called Bundah Kungoon[6] (the word Bundah implies the
sea-shore), preparatory to commencing their projected journey to Shiraaz;
he relates, that the mules and camels were provided, and even the day fixed
for their march; but, in consequence of a dream he had been visited with,
he was resolved to change his course, even should his fellow-travellers
determine on pursuing their first plan, and thereby leave him to journey
alone in an opposite direction.

He made his new resolution known to the pilgrims, and imparted to them the
dream, viz., 'Go not to Shiraaz, where thou shalt not find profit or
pleasure, but bend thy steps towards Kraabaallah. His companions laughed
at his wild scheme, and as their minds were fixed on Shiraaz, they would
have persuaded Meer Hadjee Shah to accompany them; but, no, his dream
prevailed over every other argument, and he set out accompanied by two
poor Syaads and fifteen mendicant pilgrims, embarking at Kungoon on a
small vessel for Bushire, which by a favourable wind they reached on the
third day. Here they first learned the distressing intelligence that the
plague had raged wit