January 19 Sunday – In Bombay, Sam wrote of the first night from midnight on:

Then came peace — stillness deep and solemn — and lasted till five.

Then it all broke loose again. And who re-started it? The Bird of Birds — the Indian crow. I came to know him well, by and by, and be infatuated with him. I suppose he is the hardest lot that wears feathers. Yes, and the cheerfulest, and the best satisfied with himself. He never arrived at what he is by any careless process, or by any sudden one; he is a work of art, and “art is long”; he is the product of immemorial ages, and of deep calculation; one can’t make a bird like that in a day [FE ch. XXXVIII 353].

Dr. Sidney Smith ordered Sam to keep to his bed for five or six days; the diagnosis was bronchial cough and fever. Sam remained in bed, nursing his cold [Parsons, “MT India” 76; Ahluwalia 9].

Sam hired a bearer named Mousha this morning, and rechristened him “Satan” [Parsons “MT India” 79].