Kim

Kim Page 5

by Rudyard Kipling

  CHAPTER V

  Here come I to my own again-- Fed, forgiven, and known again-- Claimed by bone of my bone again, And sib to flesh of my flesh! The fatted calf is dressed for me, But the husks have greater zest for me . . . I think my pigs will be best for me, So I'm off to the styes afresh. 'The Prodigal Son.'

  ONCE more the lazy, string-tied, shuffling procession got under way, andshe slept till they reached the next halting-stage. It was a very shortmarch, and time lacked an hour to sundown, so Kim cast about for meansof amusement.

  'But why not sit and rest?' said one of the escort. 'Only the devils andthe English walk to and fro without reason.'

  'Never make friends with the Devil, a monkey, or a boy. No man knowswhat they will do next,' said his fellow.

  Kim turned a scornful back--he did not want to hear the old story howthe Devil played with the boys and repented of it--and walked idlyacross country.

  The lama strode after him. All that day, whenever they passed a stream,he had turned aside to look at it, but in no case had he received anywarning that he had found his River. Insensibly too the comfort ofspeaking to some one in a reasonable tongue, and of being properlyconsidered and respected as her spiritual adviser by a well-born woman,had weaned his thoughts a little from the Search. And further, he wasprepared to spend serene years in his quest; having nothing of the whiteman's impatience, but a great faith.

  'Where goest thou?' he called after Kim.

  'No whither--it was a small march, and all this'--Kim waved his handsabroad--'is new to me.'

  'She is beyond question a wise and a discerning woman. But it is hard tomeditate when--'

  'All women are thus.' Kim spoke as might have Solomon.

  'Before the lamassery was a broad platform,' the lama muttered, loopingup the well-worn rosary, 'of stone. On that I have left the marks of myfeet--pacing to and fro with these.'

  He clicked the beads, and began the 'Om mane pudme hum' of his devotion;grateful for the cool, the quiet, and the absence of dust.

  One thing after another drew Kim's idle eye across the plain. There wasno purpose in his wanderings, except that the build of the huts near byseemed new, and he wished to investigate.

  They came out on a broad tract of grazing-ground, brown and purple inthe afternoon light, with a heavy clump of mangoes in the centre. Itstruck Kim as curious that no shrine stood in so eligible a spot: theboy was observing as any priest for these things. Far across the plainwalked side by side four men, made small by the distance. He lookedintently under his curved palms and caught the sheen of brass.

  'Soldiers. White soldiers!' said he. 'Let us see.'

  'It is always soldiers when thou and I go out alone together. But I havenever seen the white soldiers.'

  'They do no harm except when they are drunk. Keep behind this tree.'

  They stepped behind the thick trunks in the cool dark of the mango-tope.Two little figures halted; the other two came forward uncertainly. Theywere the advance-party of a regiment on the march, sent out, as usual,to mark the camp. They bore five-foot sticks with fluttering flags, andcalled to each other as they spread over the flat earth.

  At last they entered the mango-grove, walking heavily.

  'It's here or hereabouts--officers' tents under the trees, I take it,an' the rest of us can stay outside. Have they marked out for thebaggage-waggons behind?'

  They cried again to their comrades in the distance, and the rough answercame back faint and mellowed.

  'Shove the flag in here, then,' said one.

  'What do they prepare?' said the lama, wonder-struck. 'This is a greatand terrible world. What is the device on the flag?'

  A soldier thrust a stave within a few feet of them, grunteddiscontentedly, pulled it up again, conferred with his companion, wholooked up and down the shaded cave of greenery, and returned it.

  Kim stared with all his eyes, his breath coming short and sharp betweenhis teeth. The soldiers stamped off into the sunshine.

  'O Holy One,' he gasped, 'my horoscope! The drawing in the dust by thepriest at Umballa! Remember what he said. First come two--ferashes--tomake all things ready--in a dark place, as it is always at the beginningof a vision.'

  'But this is not vision,' said the lama. 'It is the world's Illusion,and no more.'

  'And after them comes the Bull--the Red Bull on the green field. Look!It is he!'

  He pointed to the flag that was snap-snapping in the evening breeze notten feet away. It was no more than an ordinary camp marking-flag; butthe regiment, always punctilious in matters of millinery, had charged itwith the regimental device, the Red Bull, which is the crest of theMavericks--the great Red Bull on a background of Irish green.

  'I see, and now I remember,' said the lama. 'Certainly it is thy Bull.Certainly, also, the two men came to make all ready.'

  'They are soldiers--white soldiers. What said the priest? "The sign overagainst the Bull is the sign of War and armed men." Holy One, this thingtouches my Search.'

  'True. It is true.' The lama stared fixedly at the device that flamedlike a ruby in the dusk. 'The priest at Umballa said that thine was thesign of War.'

  'What is to do now?'

  'Wait. Let us wait.'

  'Even now the darkness clears,' said Kim. It was only natural that thedescending sun should at last strike through the tree-trunks, across thegrove, filling it with mealy gold light for a few minutes; but to Kim itwas crown of the Umballa Brahmin's prophecy.

  'Hark!' said the lama. 'One beats a drum--far off!'

  At first the sound, carrying diluted through the still air, resembledthe beating of an artery in the head. Soon a sharpness was added.

  'Ah! The music,' Kim explained. He knew the sound of a regimental band,but it amazed the lama.

  At the far end of the plain a heavy, dusty column crawled in sight. Thenthe wind brought the tune:--

  'We crave your condescension To tell you what we know Of marching in the Mulligan Guards To Sligo Port below.'

  Here broke in the shrill-tongued fifes:--

  'We shouldered arms, We marched--we marched away From Phoenix Park We marched to Dublin Bay. The drums and the fifes, Oh, sweetly they did play, As we marched--marched--marched--with the Mulligan Guards!'

  It was the band of the Mavericks playing the regiment to camp; for themen were route-marching with their baggage. The rippling column swunginto the level--carts behind it--divided left and right, ran about likean ant-hill, and . . .

  But this is sorcery!' said the lama.

  The plain dotted itself with tents that seemed to rise, all spread, fromthe carts. Another rush of men invaded the grove, pitched a huge tent insilence, ran up yet eight or nine more by the side of it, unearthedcooking-pots, pans, and bundles, which were taken possession of by acrowd of native servants; and behold the mango-tope turned into anorderly town as they watched!

  'Let us go,' said the lama, sinking back afraid, as the fires twinkledand white officers with jingling swords stalked into the mess-tent.

  'Stand back in the shadow. No one can see beyond the light of a fire,'said Kim, his eyes still on the flag. He had never before watched theroutine of a seasoned regiment pitching camp in thirty minutes.

  'Look! look! look!' clucked the lama. 'Yonder comes a priest.'

  It was Bennett, the Church of England chaplain of the regiment, limpingin dusty black. One of his flock had made some rude remarks about thechaplain's mettle; and to abash him Bennett had marched step by stepwith the men that day. The black dress, gold cross on the watch-chain,the hairless face, and the soft, black wideawake hat would have markedhim as a holy man anywhere in all India. He dropped into a camp-chair bythe door of the mess-tent and slid off his boots. Three or four officersgathered round him, laughing and joking ov
er his exploit.

  'The talk of white men is wholly lacking in dignity,' said the lama, whojudged only by tone. 'But I have considered the countenance of thatpriest, and I think he is learned. Is it likely that he will understandour talk? I would talk to him of my Search.'

  'Never speak to a white man till he is fed,' said Kim, quoting awell-known proverb. 'They will eat now, and--and I do not think they aregood to beg from. Let us go back to the resting-place. After we haveeaten we will come again. It certainly was a Red Bull--my Red Bull.'

  They were both noticeably absent-minded when the old lady's retinue settheir meal before them; so none broke their reserve, for it is not luckyto annoy guests.

  'Now,' said Kim, picking his teeth, 'we will return to that place; butthou, O Holy One, must wait a little way off, because thy feet areheavier than mine and I am anxious to see more of that Red Bull.'

  'But how canst thou understand the talk? Walk slowly. The road is dark,'the lama replied uneasily.

  Kim put the question aside. 'I marked a place near to the trees,' saidhe, 'where thou canst sit till I call. Nay,' as the lama made some sortof protest, 'remember this is my Search--the Search for my Red Bull. Thesign in the Stars was not for thee. I know a little of the customs ofwhite soldiers, and I always desire to see some new things.'

  'What dost thou not know of this world?' The lama squatted obediently ina little hollow of the ground not a hundred yards from the hump of themango trees dark against the star-powdered sky.

  'Stay till I call.' Kim flitted into the dusk. He knew that in allprobability there would be sentries round the camp, and smiled tohimself as he heard the thick boots of one. A boy who can dodge over theroofs of Lahore city on a moonlight night, using every little patch andcorner of darkness to discomfit his pursuer, is not likely to be checkedby a line of well-trained soldiers. He paid them the compliment ofcrawling between a couple, and, running and halting, crouching anddropping flat, worked his way toward the lighted mess-tent where, closepressed behind the mango tree, he waited till some chance word shouldgive him a returnable lead.

  The one thing in his mind now was further information as to the RedBull. For aught he knew, and Kim's limitations were as curious andsudden as his expansions, the men, the nine hundred thorough devils ofhis father's prophecy, might pray to the beast after dark, as Hinduspray to the Holy Cow. That at least would be entirely right and logical,and the Padre with the gold cross would be therefore the man to consultin the matter. On the other hand, remembering sober-faced padres whom hehad avoided in Lahore city, the priest might be an inquisitive nuisancewho would bid him learn. But had it not been proven at Umballa that hissign in the high heavens portended war and armed men? Was he not theFriend of the Stars as well as of all the world, crammed to the teethwith dreadful secrets? Lastly,--and firstly as the undercurrent of allhis quick thoughts,--this adventure, though he did not know the Englishword, was a stupendous lark--a delightful continuation of his oldflights across the housetops, as well as the fulfilment of sublimeprophecy. He lay belly-flat and wriggled towards the mess-tent door, ahand on the amulet round his neck.

  It was as he suspected. The Sahibs prayed to their God; for in thecentre of the mess-table--its sole ornament when they were on the lineof march--stood a golden bull fashioned from old-time loot of the SummerPalace at Pekin--a red-gold bull with lowered head, ramping upon a fieldof Irish green. To him the Sahibs held out their glasses and cried aloudconfusedly.

  Now the Reverend Arthur Bennett always left mess after that toast, andbeing rather tired by his march his movements were more abrupt thanusual. Kim, with slightly raised head, was still staring at his totem onthe table, when the chaplain stepped on his right shoulder-blade. Kimflinched under the leather, and, rolling sideways, brought down thechaplain, who, ever a man of action, caught him by the throat and nearlychoked the life out of him. Kim then kicked him desperately in thestomach. Mr. Bennett gasped and doubled up but without relaxing hisgrip, rolled over again, and silently hauled Kim to his own tent. TheMavericks were incurable practical jokers; and it occurred to theEnglishman that silence was best till he had made complete inquiry.

  'Why, it's a boy!' he said, as he drew his prize under the light of thetent-pole lantern, then shaking him severely cried: 'What were youdoing? You're a thief. Choor? Mallum?' His Hindustanee was very limited,and the ruffled and disgusted Kim intended to keep to the character laiddown for him. As he recovered his breath he was inventing a beautifullyplausible tale of his relations to some mess-scullion, and at the sametime keeping a keen eye on and a little under the chaplain's leftarmpit. The chance came; he ducked for the doorway, but a long arm shotout and clutched at his neck, snapping the amulet string and closing onthe amulet.

  'Give it me. O give it me. Is it lost? Give me the papers.'

  The words were in English--the tinny, saw-cut English of thenative-bred, and the chaplain jumped.

  'A scapular,' said he, opening his hand. 'No, some sort of heathencharm. Why--why, do you speak English? Little boys who steal are beaten.You know that?'

  'I do not--I did not steal.' Kim danced in agony like a terrier at alifted stick. 'O give it me. It is my charm. Do not thieve it from me.'

  The chaplain took no heed, but, going to the tent door, called aloud. Afattish, clean-shaven man appeared.

  'I want your advice, Father Victor,' said Bennett. 'I found this boy inthe dark outside the mess-tent. Ordinarily, I should have chastised himand let him go, because I believe him to be a thief. But it seems hetalks English, and he attaches some sort of value to a charm round hisneck. I thought perhaps you might help me.'

  Between himself and the Roman Catholic chaplain of the Irish contingentlay, as Bennett believed, an unbridgeable gulf, but it was noticeablethat whenever the Church of England dealt with a human problem she waslikely to call in the Church of Rome. Bennett's official abhorrence ofthe Scarlet Woman and all her ways was only equalled by his privaterespect for Father Victor.

  'A thief talking English is it? Let's look at his charm. No, it's not ascapular, Bennett.' He held out his hand.

  'But have we any right to open it? A sound whipping--'

  'I did not thieve,' protested Kim. 'You have hit me kicks all over mybody. Now give me my charm and I will go away.'

  'Not quite so fast; we'll look first,' said Father Victor, leisurelyrolling out poor Kimball O'Hara's 'ne varietur' parchment, hisclearance-certificate, and Kim's baptismal certificate. On this lastO'Hara--with some confused idea that he was doing wonders for hisson--had scrawled scores of times: 'Look after the boy. Please lookafter the boy,'--signing his name and regimental number in full.

  'Powers of Darkness below!' said Father Victor, passing all over to Mr.Bennett. 'Do you know what these things are?'

  'Yes,' said Kim. 'They are mine, and I want to go away.'

  'I do not quite understand,' said Mr. Bennett. 'He probably brought themon purpose. It may be a begging trick of some kind.'

  'I never saw a beggar less anxious to stay with his company, then.There's the makings of a gay mystery here. Ye believe in Providence,Bennett?'

  'I hope so.'

  'Well, I believe in miracles, so it comes to the same thing. Powers ofDarkness! Kimball O'Hara! And his son! But then he's a native, and I sawKimball married myself to Annie Shott. How long have you had thesethings, boy?'

  'Ever since I was a little baby.' Father Victor stepped forward quicklyand opened the front of Kim's upper garment. 'You see, Bennett, he's notvery black. What's your name?'

  'Kim.'

  'Or Kimball?'

  'Perhaps. Will you let me go away?'

  'What else?'

  'They call me Kim Rishti ke. That is Kim of the Rishti.'

  'What is that--"Rishti"?'

  'Eye-rishti--that was the regiment--my father's.'

  'Irish, oh I see.'

  'Yess. That was how my father told me. My father, he has lived.'

  'Has lived where?'

  'Has lived. Of course he is dead--gone-out.
'

  'Oh. That's your abrupt way of putting it, is it?'

  Bennett interrupted. 'It is possible I have done the boy an injustice.He is certainly white, though evidently neglected. I am sure I must havebruised him. I do not think spirits--'

  'Get him a glass of sherry, then, and let him squat on the cot. Now,Kim,' continued Father Victor, 'no one is going to hurt you. Drink thatdown and tell us about yourself. The truth, if you've no objection.'

  Kim coughed a little as he put down the empty glass, and considered.This seemed a time for caution and fancy. Small boys who prowl aboutcamps are generally turned out after a whipping. But he had received nostripes; the amulet was evidently working in his favour, and it lookedas though the Umballa horoscope and the few words that he could rememberof his father's maunderings fitted in most miraculously. Else why didthe fat padre seem so impressed, and why the glass of hot yellow winefrom the lean one?

  'My father, he is dead in Lahore city since I was very little. Thewoman, she kept kabarri-shop near where the hire-carriages are.' Kimbegan with a plunge, not quite sure how far the truth would serve him.

  'Your mother?'

  'No'--with a gesture of disgust. 'She went out when I was born. Myfather, he got these papers from the Jadoo-Gher--what do you call that?'(Bennett nodded) 'because he was in--good-standing. What do you callthat?' (again Bennett nodded). 'My father told me that. He said too, andalso the Brahmin who made the drawing in the dust at Umballa two daysago, he said, that I shall find a Red Bull on a green field and that theBull shall help me.'

  'A phenomenal little liar,' muttered Bennett.

  'Powers of Darkness below, what a country!' murmured Father Victor. 'Goon, Kim.'

  'I did not thieve. Besides, I am just now disciple of a very holy man.He is sitting outside. We saw two men come with flags, making the placeready. That is always so in a dream, or on account of a--a--prophecy. SoI knew it was come true. I saw the Red Bull on the green field, and myfather he said: "Nine hundred pukka devils and the Colonel riding on ahorse will look after you when you find the Red Bull!" I did not knowwhat to do when I saw the Bull, but I went away and I came again when itwas dark. I wanted to see the Bull again, and I saw the Bull again withthe--the Sahibs praying to it. I think the Bull shall help me. The holyman said so too. He is sitting outside. Will you hurt him, if I call hima shout now? He is very holy. He can witness to all the things I say,and he knows I am not a thief.'

  '"Officers praying to a bull!" What in the world do you make of that?'said Bennett. '"Disciple of a holy man!" Is the boy mad?'

  'It's O'Hara's boy, sure enough. O'Hara's boy leagued with all thePowers of Darkness. It's very much what his father would have done--ifhe was drunk. We'd better invite the holy man. He may know something.'

  'He does not know anything,' said Kim. 'I will show you him if you come.He is my master. Then afterwards we can go.'

  'Powers of Darkness!' was all that Father Victor could say, as Bennettmarched off, with a firm hand on Kim's shoulder.

  They found the lama where he had dropped.

  'The Search is at an end for me,' shouted Kim in the vernacular. 'I havefound the Bull, but God knows what comes next. They will not hurt you.Come to the fat priest's tent with this thin man and see the end. It isall new, and they cannot talk Hindi. They are only uncurried donkeys.'

  'Then it is not well to make a jest of their ignorance,' the lamareturned. 'I am glad if thou art rejoiced, chela.'

  Dignified and unsuspicious, he strode into the little tent, saluted theChurches as a Churchman, and sat down by the open charcoal brazier. Theyellow lining of the tent reflected in the lamplight made his facered-gold.

  Bennett looked at him with the triple-ringed uninterest of the creedthat lumps nine-tenths of the world under the title of 'heathen.'

  'And what was the end of the search? What gift has the Red Bullbrought?' The lama addressed himself to Kim.

  'He says, "What are you going to do?"' Bennett was staring uneasily atFather Victor, and Kim, for his own ends, took upon himself the officeof interpreter.

  'I do not see what concern this faquir has with the boy, who is probablyhis dupe or his confederate,' Bennett began. 'We cannot allow an Englishboy--Assuming that he is the son of a Mason, the sooner he goes to theMasonic Orphanage the better.'

  'Ah! That's your opinion as Secretary to the Regimental Lodge,' saidFather Victor; 'but we might as well tell the old man what we are goingto do. He doesn't look like a villain.'

  'My experience is that one can never fathom the Oriental mind. Now,Kimball, I wish you to tell this man what I say--word for word.'

  Kim gathered the import of the next few sentences and began thus:

  'Holy One, the thin fool who looks like a camel says that I am the sonof a Sahib.'

  'But how?'

  'Oh, it is true. I knew it since my birth, but he could only find it outby rending the amulet from my neck and reading all the papers. He thinksthat once a Sahib is always a Sahib, and between the two of them theypurpose to keep me in this regiment or to send me to a madrissah (aschool). It has happened before. I have always avoided it. The fat foolis of one mind and the camel-like one of another. But that is no odds. Imay spend one night here and perhaps the next. It has happened before.Then I will run away and return to thee.'

  'But tell them that thou art my chela. Tell them how thou didst come tome when I was faint and bewildered. Tell them of our Search, and theywill surely let thee go now.'

  'I have already told them. They laugh, and they talk of the Police.'

  'What are you saying?' asked Mr. Bennett.

  'Oah. He only says that if you do not let me go it will stop him in hisbusiness--his ur-gent private affairs.' This last was a reminiscence ofsome talk with a Eurasian clerk in the Canal Department, but it onlydrew a smile, which nettled him. 'And if you did know what his businesswas you would not be in such a beastly hurry to interfere.'

  'What is it then?' said Father Victor, not without feeling, as hewatched the lama's face.

  'There is a River in this country which he wishes to find so verreemuch. It was put out by an Arrow which--' Kim tapped his footimpatiently as he translated in his own mind from the vernacular to hisclumsy English. 'Oah, it was made by our Lord God Buddha, you know, andif you wash there you are washed away from all your sins and made aswhite as cotton-wool.' (Kim had heard mission-talk in his time.) 'I amhis disciple, and we must find that River. It is so verree valuable tous.'

  'Say that again,' said Bennett. Kim obeyed, with amplifications.

  'But this is gross blasphemy!' cried the Church of England.

  'Tck! Tck!' said Father Victor sympathetically. 'I'd give a good deal tobe able to talk the vernacular. A river that washes away sin! And howlong have you two been looking for it?'

  'Oh, many days. Now we wish to go away and look for it again. It is nothere, you see.'

  'I see,' said Father Victor gravely. 'But he can't go on in that oldman's company. It would be different, Kim, if you were not a soldier'sson. Tell him that the regiment will take care of you and make you asgood a man as your--as good a man as can be. Tell him that if hebelieves in miracles he must believe that--'

  'There is no need to play on his credulity,' Bennett interrupted.

  'I'm doing no such thing. He must believe that the boy's coming here--tohis own regiment--in search of his Red Bull is in the nature of amiracle. Consider the chances against it, Bennett. This one boy in allIndia, and our regiment of all others on the line o' march for him tomeet with! It's predestined on the face of it. Yes, tell him it'sKismet. Kismet, mallum?' (Fate! Do you understand?)

  He turned towards the lama, to whom he might as well have talked ofMesopotamia.

  'They say,'--the old man's eye lighted at Kim's speech,--'they say thatthe meaning of my horoscope is now accomplished, and that being ledback--though as thou knowest I went out of curiosity--to these peopleand their Red Bull I must needs go to a madrissah and be turned into aSahib. Now I make pretence of agreement
, for at the worst it will be buta few meals eaten away from thee. Then I will slip away and follow downthe road to Saharunpore. Therefore, Holy One, keep with that Kuluwoman--on no account stray far from her cart till I come again. Pastquestion, my sign is of War and of armed men. See how they have given mewine to drink and set me upon a bed of honour! My father must have beensome great person. So if they raise me to honour among them, good. Ifnot, good again. However it goes, I will run back to thee when I amtired. But stay with the Rajputni, or I shall miss thy feet. . . . Oahyess,' said the boy, 'I have told him everything you tell me to say.'

  'And I cannot see any need why he should wait,' said Bennett, feeling inhis trouser-pocket. 'We can investigate the details later--and I willgive him a ru--'

  'Give him time. May be he's fond of the lad,' said Father Victor,half-arresting the clergyman's motion.

  The lama dragged forth his rosary and pulled his huge hat-brim over hiseyes.

  'What can he want now?'

  'He says'--Kim put up one hand. 'He says: Be quiett. He wants to speakto me by himself. You see you do not know one little word of what hesays, and I think if you talk he will perhaps give you very bad curses.When he takes those beads like that, you see he always wants to bequiett.'

  The two Englishmen sat overwhelmed, but there was a look in Bennett'seye that promised ill for Kim when he should be relaxed to the religiousarm.

  'A Sahib and the son of a Sahib--' The lama's voice was harsh with pain.'But no white man knows the land and the customs of the land as thouknowest. How comes it this is true?'

  'What matter, Holy One: but remember it is only for a night or two.Remember, I can change swiftly. It will all be as it was when I firstspoke to thee under Zam-Zammah the great gun--'

  'As a boy in the dress of white men--when I first went to the WonderHouse. And a second time thou wast a Hindu. What shall the thirdincarnation be?' He chuckled drearily. 'Ah, chela, thou hast done awrong to an old man because my heart went out to thee.'

  'And mine to thee. But how could I know that the Red Bull would bring meto this business?'

  The lama covered his face afresh, and nervously rattled the rosary. Kimsquatted beside him and laid hold upon a fold of his clothing.

  'Now it is understood that the boy is a Sahib?' he went on in a muffledtone. 'Such a Sahib as was he who kept the images in the Wonder House.'The lama's experience of white men was limited. He seemed to berepeating a lesson. 'So then it is not seemly that he should do otherthan as the Sahibs do. He must go back to his own people.'

  'For a day and a night and a day,' Kim pleaded.

  'No, ye don't!' Father Victor saw Kim edging towards the door, andinterposed a strong leg.

  'I do not understand the customs of white men. The Priest of the Imagesin the Wonder House in Lahore was more courteous than the thin one here.This boy will be taken from me. They will make a Sahib of my disciple?Woe to me, how shall I find my River? Have they no disciples? Ask.'

  'He says he is very sorry that he cannot find the River now any more. Hesays, Why have you no disciples, and stop bothering him? He wants to bewashed of his sins.'

  Neither Bennett nor Father Victor found any answer ready.

  Said Kim in English, distressed for the lama's agony: 'I think if youwill let me go now we will walk away quietly and not steal. We will lookfor that River like before I was caught. I wish I did not come here tofind the Red Bull and all that sort of thing. I do not want it.'

  'It's the very best day's work you ever did for yourself, young man,'said Bennett.

  'Good heavens, I don't know how to console him,' said Father Victor,watching the lama intently. 'He can't take the boy away with him, andyet he's a good man--I'm sure he's a good man. Bennett, if you give himthat rupee he'll curse you root and branch!'

  They listened to each other's breathing--three--five full minutes. Thenthe lama raised his head, and looked forth across them into space andemptiness.

  'And I am a follower of the Way,' he said bitterly. 'The sin is mine andthe punishment is mine. I made believe to myself--for now I see it wasbut make-belief--that thou wast sent to me to aid in the Search. So myheart went out to thee for thy charity and thy courtesy and the wisdomof thy little years. But those who follow the Way must permit not thefire of any desire or attachment, for that is all illusion. As says . . .'He quoted an old, old Chinese text, backed it with another, andreinforced these with a third. 'I stepped aside from the Way, my chela.It was no fault of thine. I delighted in the sight of life, the newpeople upon the roads, and in thy joy at seeing these things. I waspleased with thee who should have considered my Search and my Searchalone. Now I am sorrowful because thou art taken away and my River isfar from me. It is the Law which I have broken!'

  'Powers of Darkness below!' said Father Victor, who, wise in theconfessional, heard the pain in every sentence.

  'I see now that the sign of the Red Bull was a sign for me as well asfor thee. All Desire is red--and evil. I will do penance and find myRiver alone.'

  'At least go back to the Kulu woman,' said Kim, 'otherwise thou wilt belost upon the roads. She will feed thee till I run back to thee.'

  The lama waved a hand to show that the matter was finally settled in hismind.

  'Now,'--his tone altered as he turned to Kim,--'what will they do withthee? At least I may, acquiring merit, wipe out past ill.'

  'Make me a Sahib--so they think. The day after to-morrow I return. Donot grieve.'

  'Of what sort? Such an one as this or that man?' He pointed to FatherVictor. 'Such an one as those I saw this evening--men wearing swords andstamping heavily?'

  'Maybe.'

  'That is not well. These men follow desire and come to emptiness. Thoumust not be of their sort.'

  'The Umballa priest said that my Star was War,' Kim interjected. 'I willask these fools--but there is truly no need. I will run away this night,for all I wanted to see the new things.'

  Kim put two or three questions in English to Father Victor, translatingthe replies to the lama.

  Then: 'He says, "You take him from me and you cannot say what you willmake him." He says, "Tell me before I go, for it is not a small thing tomake a child."'

  'You will be sent to a school. Later on, we shall see. Kimball, Isuppose you'd like to be a soldier?'

  'Gorah-log (white-folk). No-ah! No-ah!' Kim shook his head violently.There was nothing in his composition to which drill and routineappealed. 'I will not be a soldier.'

  'You will be what you're told to be,' said Bennett; and you should begrateful that we're going to help you.'

  Kim smiled compassionately. If these men lay under the delusion that hewould do anything that he did not fancy, so much the better.

  Another long silence followed. Bennett fidgeted with impatience, andsuggested calling a sentry to evict the faquir.

  'Do they give or sell learning among the Sahibs? Ask them,' said thelama, and Kim interpreted.

  'They say that money is paid to the teacher--but that money the regimentwill give. . . . What need? It is only for a night.'

  'And--the more money is paid the better learning is given?' The lamadisregarded Kim's plans for an early flight. 'It is no wrong to pay forlearning; to help the ignorant to wisdom is always a merit.' The rosaryclicked furiously as an abacus. Then he faced his oppressors.

  'Ask them for how much money do they give a wise and suitable teaching?and in what city is that teaching given?'

  'Well,' said Father Victor in English, when Kim had translated, 'thatdepends. The regiment would pay for you all the time you are at theMilitary Orphanage; or you might go on the Punjab Masonic Orphanage'slist (not that he or you'ud understand what that means); but the bestschooling a boy can get in India is, of course, at St. Xavier's inPartibus at Lucknow.' This took some time to interpret, for Bennettwished to cut it short.

  'He wants to know how much?' said Kim placidly.

  'Two or three hundred rupees a year.' Father Victor was long past anysense of amazement. Bennett, impatient, did
not understand.

  'He says: "Write that name and the money upon a paper and give it him."And he says you must write your name below, because he is going to writea letter in some days to you. He says you are a good man. He says theother man is a fool. He is going away.'

  The lama rose suddenly. 'I follow my Search,' he cried, and was gone.

  'He'll run slap into the sentries,' cried Father Victor, jumping up asthe lama stalked out; 'but I can't leave the boy.' Kim made swift motionto follow, but checked himself. There was no sound of challenge outside.The lama had disappeared.

  Kim settled himself composedly on the chaplain's cot. At least the lamahad promised that he would stay with the Rajput woman from Kulu, and therest was of the smallest importance. It pleased him that the two padreswere so evidently excited. They talked long in undertones, Father Victorurging some scheme on Mr. Bennett, who seemed incredulous. All this wasvery new and fascinating, but Kim felt sleepy. They called men into thetent--one of them certainly was the Colonel, as his father hadprophesied--and they asked him an infinity of questions, chiefly aboutthe woman who looked after him, all of which Kim answered truthfully.They did not seem to think the woman a good guardian.

  After all, this was the newest of his experiences. Sooner or later, ifhe chose, he could escape into great, gray, formless India, beyond tentsand padres and colonels. Meantime, if the Sahibs were to be impressed,he would do his best to impress them. He too was a white man.

  After much talk that he could not comprehend, they handed him over to asergeant, who had strict instructions not to let him escape. Theregiment would go on to Umballa, and Kim would be sent up, partly at theexpense of the Lodge and in part by subscription, to a place calledSanawar.

  'It's miraculous past all whooping, Colonel,' said Father Victor, whenhe had talked without a break for ten minutes. 'His Buddhist friend haslevanted after taking my name and address. I can't quite make outwhether he'll pay for the boy's education or whether he is preparingsome sort of witchcraft on his own account.' Then to Kim: 'You'll liveto be grateful to your friend the Red Bull yet. We'll make a man of youat Sanawar--even at the price o' making you a Protestant.'

  'Certainly--most certainly,' said Bennett.

  'But you will not go to Sanawar,' said Kim.

  'But we will go to Sanawar, little man. That's the order of theCommander-in-Chief, who's a trifle more important than O'Hara's son.'

  'You will not go to Sanawar. You will go to thee war.'

  There was a shout of laughter from the full tent.

  'When you know your own regiment a trifle better you won't confuse theline of march with line of battle, Kim. We hope to go to "thee war"sometime.'

  'Oah, I know all thatt.' Kim drew his bow again at a venture. If theywere not going to the war, at least they did not know what he knew ofthe talk in the veranda at Umballa.

  'I know you are not at thee war now; but I tell you that as soon as youget to Umballa you will be sent to the war--the new war. It is a war ofeight thousand men, besides the guns.'

  'That's explicit. D'you add prophecy to your other gifts? Take himalong, Sergeant. Take up a suit for him from the Drums, an' take care hedoesn't slip through your fingers. Who says the age of miracles is goneby? I think I'll go to bed. My poor mind's weakening.'

  At the far end of the camp, silent as a wild animal, an hour later satKim, newly washed all over, in a horrible stuff suit that rasped hisarms and legs.

  'A most amazin' young bird,' said the Sergeant. 'He turns up in chargeof a yellow-headed buck-Brahmin priest, with his father's Lodgecertificates round his neck, talkin' God knows what all of a red bull.The buck-Brahmin evaporates without explanations, an' the bhoy setscross-legged on the chaplain's bed prophesyin' bloody war to the men atlarge. Injia's a wild land for a God-fearin' man. I'll just tie his legto the tent-pole in case he'll go through the roof. What did ye sayabout the war?'

  'Eight thousand men, besides guns,' said Kim. 'Very soon you will see.'

  'You're a consolin' little imp. Lie down between the Drums an' go tobye-bye. Those two boys beside ye will watch your slumbers.'

 

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