I have had a cage made
for it, and it is now feeding at my side, and is apparently very happy.
I'll try and take it to England. I believe it is only one of the shrike
family, but it is too young to identify at present. However, it is my
fancy to keep it, so why should I not. The old gardener here is very
attentive, constantly bringing me fruit. Shall I do him injustice, by
saying that he probably has expectation of a reward? I think not indeed,
is it not the same expectation or its allied motive, the desire to
escape punishment, which prompts the actions of all of us? We do good, I
fear, more for the sake of the promised recompense, than for any love
of the thing itself. Light rain has fallen all day.
AUGUST 20th.--I halt at Atchibul. I have now completed my wanderings in
Kashmir, and have seen all I intended except one portion, which I shall
visit on my road home. My next move will be to ----, but as I do not
care to spend more than seven or eight days there, I am in no hurry to
get back. My bird died in the night, and by its death has put an end to
a rather violent controversy between my Bheistie and boatman. The
boatman stoutly maintained his opinion of its value and the Bheistie
with a more correct appreciation, and while explaining to me that it
was a jungle bird and would never sing, appeared to look upon my conduct
with a mixture of compassion and disgust, and then they quarrelled over
it.
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