Vv TROUBLES WITH THE WORKMEN 53 
to my surprise and amusement I found that it was 
my friend Karim Bux who was at death’s door. It 
was perfectly evident to me that he was only 
“foxing,” but when he asked for dawa (medicine), 
I told him gravely that I would give him some very 
good dawa in the morning. 
Next day at noon—when it was my custom to 
have evil-doers brought up for judgment—I asked for 
Karim Bux, but was told that he was too ill to walk. 
I accordingly ordered him to be carried to my éoma, 
and in a few moments he arrived in his charfoy, 
which was shouldered by four coolies who, I could 
see, knew quite well that he was only shamming. 
There were also a score or so of his friends hanging 
around, doubtless waiting in the expectation of 
seeing the ‘‘Sahib” hoodwinked. When the bed 
was placed on the ground near me, I lifted the 
blanket with which he had covered himself and 
thoroughly examined him, at the same time feeling 
him to make sure that he had no fever. He 
pretended to be desperately ill and again asked for 
dawa; but having finally satisfied myself that it was 
as the jemadar had said—pure édudmashi (devilment) 
—I told him that I was going to give him some very 
effective dawa, and carefully covered him up again, 
pulling the blanket over his head. I then got a big 
armful of shavings from a carpenter’s bench which 
was close by, put them under the bed and set fire to 
