’"Wife,” said the Syaad, “this al-kaulock[19] (Arab’s coat of calico) of mine requires a little of thy labour:  as I have now no other garment to change with, I trust you may please to wash it whilst I take my sleep;—­one caution you must observe,—­I have occasion for the water in which this dress is to be washed; preserve it carefully for me, my good wife;” and he laid him down on his mat to sleep.  The wife, obedient to her husband’s wishes, washed his dress, and took care to preserve the dirty water; when he awoke, she brought him the clean garment, and received his warm commendations for her diligence.  She then produced the pan of dirty water, in which she had cleansed the garment, saying, “There, Syaad Harshim, I have done as you desired.”—­“Very good,” replied her husband, “now you must farther oblige me by drinking it—­you know there is nothing in this water but the sweat of my body produced by my daily labour.”  The wife, disgusted at the strange request of her husband, looked with amazement, and fancied he must have lost his senses.  “What is this you require of me? would you poison your wife, O Syaad Harshim, with the filth from your skin, the accumulation of many days’ labour in the jungles? art thou mad, to ask thy wife a request so unheard of?”

’"Listen to me, wife,” said the Syaad, in gentle terms; “you profess to love, honour, and respect me, as your faithful, lawful husband; pray can the dirt from my body be more offensive to your palate than the scum of Nadir Shaah, whom you only know by name?  You would have accepted the filthy offerings of a cruel man, who plundered and sacrificed his victims to obtain the treasures he possesses;—­you would not have scrupled to obtain your future sustenance by the coins of Nadir Shaah, gained as they were by the spilling of human blood?  Is this your love for Syaad Harshim?” The wife threw herself at her husband’s feet, when his speech was finished:  “Pardon me, my dear husband! pardon my ignorance and self-love; I see myself disgraced by harbouring one wish for more than is gained by honest industry.  No longer have I any desire for the gold of Nadir Shaah.  Contented as yourself, my dear, good husband!  I will continue to labour for the honest bread that sustains, nor ever again desire my condition to be changed."’

The Woodman, Syaad Harshim, lived to a great age; many a tear hath fallen on his grave from the good pilgrims visiting the shrine of Ali, near which he was buried; and his resting place is reverenced to this day by the passing traveller of his own faith.

[1] Kafilah.

[2] The burqa’:  see drawing in Hughes, Dictionary of Islam, p. 95.

[3] Bokhara.

[4] The Origin of the Sikhs, by H. Colebrooke, Esq., gives a faithful
    picture of those warlike people. [The best account of their beliefs
    is by M. Macauliffe, The Sikh Religion, Oxford, 1909.]