Kim

by Rudyard Kipling

  CHAPTER X

  Your tiercel's too long at hack, Sire. He's no eyass But a passage-hawk that footed ere we caught him, Dangerously free o' the air. Faith! were he mine (As mine's the glove he binds to for his tirings) I'd fly him with a make-hawk. He's in yarak Plumed to the very point--so manned so weathered . . . Give him the firmament God made him for, And what shall take the air of him? --Old Play.

  LURGAN SAHIB did not use as direct speech, but his advice tallied withMahbub's; and the upshot was good for Kim. He knew better now than toleave Lucknow city in native garb, and if Mahbub were anywhere withinreach of a letter, it was to Mahbub's camp he headed, and made hischange under the Pathan's wary eye. Could the little Survey paint-boxthat he used for map-tinting in term-time have found a tongue to tell ofholiday doings, he might have been expelled. Once Mahbub and he wenttogether as far as the beautiful city of Bombay, with three truck-loadsof tram-horses, and Mahbub nearly melted when Kim proposed a sail in adhow across the Indian Ocean to buy Gulf Arabs, which he understood froma hanger-on of the dealer Abdul Rahman, fetched better prices than mereCabulis.

  He dipped his hand into the dish with that great trader when Mahbub anda few co-religionists were invited to a big Haj dinner. They came backby way of Karachi by sea, when Kim took his first experience ofsea-sickness sitting on the fore-hatch of a coasting-steamer, wellpersuaded he had been poisoned. The Babu's famous drug-box proveduseless, though Kim had restocked it at Bombay. Mahbub had business atQuetta, and there Kim, as Mahbub admitted, earned his keep, and perhapsa little over, by spending four curious days as scullion in the house ofa fat Commissariat sergeant, from whose office-box, in an auspiciousmoment, he removed a little vellum ledger which he copied out--it seemedto deal entirely with cattle and camel sales--by moonlight, lying behindan outhouse, all through one hot night. Then he returned the ledger toits place, and, at Mahbub's word, left that service unpaid, rejoininghim six miles down the road, the clean copy in his bosom.

  'That soldier is a small fish,' Mahbub Ali explained, 'but in time weshall catch the larger one. He only sells oxen at two prices--one forhimself and one for the Government--which I do not think is a sin.'

  'Why could not I take away the little book and be done with it?'

  'Then he would have been frightened, and he would have told his master.Then we should miss, perhaps, a great number of new rifles which seektheir way up from Quetta to the North. The Game is so large that onesees but a little at a time.'

  'Oho!' said Kim, and held his tongue. That was in the monsoon holidays,after he had taken the prize for mathematics. The Christmas holidays hespent--deducting ten days for private amusements--with Lurgan Sahib,where he sat for the most part in front of a roaring wood-fire--Jakko-roadwas four feet deep in snow that year--and--the small Hindu had gone awayto be married--helped Lurgan to thread pearls. He made Kim learn wholechapters of the Koran by heart, till he could deliver them with the veryroll and cadence of a mullah. Moreover, he told Kim the names andproperties of many native drugs, as well as the runes proper to recitewhen you administer them. And in the evenings he wrote charms onparchment--elaborate pentagrams crowned with the names of devils--Murra,and Awan the Companion of Kings--all fantastically written in thecorners. More to the point, he advised Kim as to the care of his ownbody, the cure of fever-fits, and simple remedies of the Road. A weekbefore it was time to go down, Colonel Creighton Sahib--this wasunfair--sent Kim a written examination-paper that concerned itselfsolely with rods and chains and links and angles.

  Next holidays he was out with Mahbub, and here, by the way, he nearlydied of thirst, plodding through the sand on a camel to the mysteriouscity of Bikaneer, where the wells are four hundred feet deep, and linedthroughout with camel-bone. It was not an amusing trip from Kim's pointof view, because--in defiance of the contract--the Colonel ordered himto make a map of that wild, walled city; and since Mohammedan horse-boysand pipe-tenders are not expected to drag Survey-chains round thecapital of an independent native state, Kim was forced to pace all hisdistances by means of a bead rosary. He used the compass for bearings asoccasion served--after dark chiefly, when the camels had been fed--andby the help of his little Survey paint-box of six colour-cakes and threebrushes, he achieved something not remotely unlike the city ofJeysalmir. Mahbub laughed a great deal, and advised him to make up awritten report as well; and in the back of the big account-book that layunder the flap of Mahbub's pet saddle Kim fell to work.

  'It must hold everything that thou hast seen or touched or considered.Write as though the Jung-i-Lat Sahib himself had come by stealth with avast army outsetting to war.'

  'How great an army?'

  'Oh, half a lakh of men.'

  'Folly! Remember how few and bad were the wells in the sand. Not athousand thirsty men could come near by here.'

  'Then write that down--also all the old breaches in the walls--andwhence the firewood is cut--and what is the temper and disposition ofthe King. I stay here till all my horses are sold. I will hire a room bythe gateway, and thou shalt be my accountant. There is a good lock tothe door.'

  The report in its unmistakable St. Xavier's running script, and thebrown, yellow, and lake-daubed map, was on hand a few years ago (acareless clerk filed it with the rough notes of E.23's second Seistansurvey), but by now the pencil characters must be almost illegible. Kimtranslated it, sweating under the light of an oil-lamp, to Mahbub, thesecond day of their return-journey. The Pathan rose and stooped over hisdappled saddle-bags.

  'I knew it would be worthy a dress of honour, and so I made one ready,'he said smiling. 'Were I Amir of Afghanistan (and some day we may seehim), I would fill thy mouth with gold.' He laid the garments formallyat Kim's feet. There was a gold-embroidered Peshawur turban-cap, risingto a cone, and a big turban-cloth ending in a broad fringe of gold.There was a Delhi embroidered waistcoat to slip over a milky-whiteshirt, fastening to the right, ample and flowing; green pyjamas withtwisted silk waist-string; and that nothing might be lacking,russia-leather slippers, smelling divinely, with arrogantly curled tips.

  'Upon a Wednesday, and in the morning, to put on new clothes isauspicious,' said Mahbub solemnly. 'But we must not forget the wickedfolk in the world. So!'

  He capped all the splendour, that was taking Kim's delighted breathaway, with a mother-of-pearl, nickel-plated, self-extracting .450revolver.

  'I had thought of a smaller bore, but reflected that this takesGovernment bullets. A man can always come by those--especially acrossthe Border. Stand up and let me look.' He clapped Kim on the shoulder.'May you never be tired, Pathan! Oh, the hearts to be broken! Oh, theeyes under the eyelashes, looking sideways!'

  Kim turned about, pointed his toes, stretched, and felt mechanically forthe moustache that was just beginning. Then he stooped towards Mahbub'sfeet to make proper acknowledgment with fluttering, quick-patting hands;his heart too full for words. Mahbub forestalled and embraced him.

  'My son,' said he, 'what need of words between us? But is not the littlegun a delight? All six cartridges come out at one twist. It is borne inthe bosom next the skin, which, as it were, keeps it oiled. Never putit elsewhere, and please God, thou shalt some day kill a man with it.'

  'Hai mai!' said Kim ruefully. 'If a Sahib kills a man he is hung in thejail.'

  'True: but one pace beyond the Border, men are wiser. Put it away; butfill it first. Of what use is a gun unfed?'

  'When I go back to the madrissah I must return it. They do not allowlittle guns. Thou wilt keep it for me?'

  'Son, I am wearied of that madrissah, where they take the best years ofa man to teach him what he can only learn upon the Road. The folly ofthe Sahibs has neither top nor bottom. No matter. Maybe thy writtenreport shall save thee further bondage; and God He knows we need menmore and more in the Game.'

  They marched, jaw-bound against blowing sand, across the salt desert toJodhpore, where Mahbub and his handso
me nephew Habib-Ullah did muchtrading; and then sorrowfully, in European clothes, which he was fastoutgrowing, Kim went second-class to St. Xavier's. Three weeks later,Colonel Creighton, pricing Tibetan ghost-daggers at Lurgan's shop, facedMahbub Ali openly mutinous. Lurgan Sahib operated as support in reserve.

  'The pony is made--finished--mouthed and paced, Sahib! From now on, dayby day, he will lose his manners if he is kept at tricks. Drop the reinon his back and let go,' said the horse-dealer. 'We need him.'

  'But he is so young, Mahbub--not more than sixteen--is he?'

  'When I was fifteen, I had shot my man and begot my man, Sahib.'

  'You impenitent old heathen.' Creighton turned to Lurgan. The blackbeard nodded assent to the wisdom of the Afghan's dyed scarlet.

  'I should have used him long ago,' said Lurgan. 'The younger the better.That is why I always have my really valuable jewels watched by a child.You sent him to me to try. I tried him in every way: he is the only boyI could not make to see things.'

  'In the crystal--in the ink-pool?' demanded Mahbub.

  'No. Under my hand, as I told you. That has never happened before. Itmeans that he is strong enough--but you think it skittles, ColonelCreighton--to make any one do anything he wants. And that is three yearsago. I have taught him a good deal since, Colonel Creighton. I think youwaste him now.'

  'Hmm! Maybe you're right. But, as you know, there is no Survey work forhim at present.'

  'Let him out--let him go,' Mahbub interrupted. 'Who expects any colt tocarry heavy weight at first? Let him run with the caravans like ourwhite camel-colts--for luck. I would take him myself, but--'

  'There is a little business where he would be most useful--in theSouth,' said Lurgan, with peculiar suavity, dropping his heavy bluedeyelids.

  'E.23 has that in hand,' said Creighton quickly. 'He must not go downthere. Besides, he knows no Turki.'

  'Only tell him the shape and the smell of the letters we want and hewill bring them back,' Lurgan insisted.

  'No. That is a man's job,' said Creighton.

  It was a wry-necked matter of unauthorised and incendiary correspondencebetween a person who claimed to be the ultimate authority in all mattersof the Mohammedan religion throughout the world, and a younger memberof a royal house who had been brought to book for kidnapping womenwithin British territory. The Moslem Archbishop had been emphatic andover-arrogant; the young prince was merely sulky at the curtailment ofhis privileges, but there was no need he should continue acorrespondence which might some day compromise him. One letter indeedhad been procured, but the finder was later found dead by the roadsidein the habit of an Arab trader, as E.23, taking up the work, dulyreported.

  These facts, and a few others not to be published, made both Mahbub andCreighton shake their heads.

  'Let him go out with his Red Lama,' said the horse-dealer with visibleeffort. 'He is fond of the old man. He can learn his paces by the rosaryat least.'

  'I have had some dealings with the old man--by letter,' said ColonelCreighton, smiling to himself. 'Whither goes he?'

  'Up and down the land, as he has these three years. He seeks a River ofHealing. God's curse upon all--' Mahbub checked himself. 'He beds downat the Temple of the Tirthankers or at Buddh Gaya when he is in from theRoad. Then he goes to see the boy at the madrissah as we know, for theboy was punished for it twice or thrice. He is quite mad, but a peacefulman. I have met him. The Babu also has had dealings with him. We havewatched him for three years. Red Lamas are not so common in Hind thatone loses track.'

  'Babus are very curious,' said Lurgan meditatively. 'Do you know whatHurree Babu really wants? He wants to be made a member of the RoyalSociety by taking ethnological notes. I tell you, I tell him about thelama everything that Mahbub and the boy have told me. Hurree Babu goesdown to Benares--at his own expense, I think.'

  'I don't,' said Creighton briefly. He had paid Hurree's travellingexpenses, out of a most lively curiosity to learn what the lama mightbe.

  'And he applies to the lama for information on lamaism, and devildances, and spells and charms, several times in these few years. HolyVirgin! I could have told him all that yee-ars ago. I think Hurree Babuis getting too old for the Road. He likes better to collect manners andcustoms information. Yes, he wants to be an F. R. S.'

  'Hurree thinks well of the boy, doesn't he?'

  'Oh, very indeed--we have had some pleasant evenings at my littleplace--but I think it would be waste to throw him away with Hurree onthe Ethnological side.'

  'Not for a first experience. How does that strike you, Mahbub? Let theboy run with the lama for six months. After that we can see. He will getexperience.'

  'He has it already, Sahib--as a fish controls the water he swims in; butfor every reason it will be well to loose him from the school.'

  'Very good, then,' said Creighton, half to himself. 'He can go with thelama, and if Hurree Babu cares to keep an eye on them so much thebetter. He won't lead the boy into any danger as Mahbub would.Curious--his wish to be an F. R. S. Very human, too. He is best on theEthnological side--Hurree.'

  No money and no preferment would have drawn Creighton from his work onthe Indian Survey, but deep in his heart also lay the ambition to write'F. R. S.' after his name. Honours of a sort he knew could be obtainedby ingenuity and the help of friends, but, to the best of his belief,nothing save work--papers representing a life of it--took a man into theSociety which he had bombarded for years with monographs on strangeAsiatic cults and unknown customs. Nine men out of ten would flee from aRoyal Society soiree in extremity of boredom; but Creighton was thetenth, and at times his soul yearned for the crowded rooms in easyLondon where silver-haired, bald-headed gentlemen who know nothing ofthe Army move among spectroscopic experiments, the lesser plants of thefrozen tundras, electric flight-measuring machines, and apparatus forslicing into fractional millimetres the left eye of the female mosquito.By all right and reason, it was the Royal Geographical that should haveappealed to him, but men are as chancy as children in their choice ofplaythings. So Creighton smiled, and thought the better of Hurree Babu,moved by like desires.

  He dropped the ghost-dagger and looked up at Mahbub.

  'How soon can we get the colt from the stable?' said the horse-dealer,reading his eyes.

  'Hmm. If I withdraw him by order now--what will he do, think you? I havenever before assisted at the teaching of such an one.'

  'He will come to me,' said Mahbub promptly. 'Lurgan Sahib and I willprepare him for the Road.'

  'So be it, then. For six months he shall run at his choice: but who willbe his sponsor?'

  Lurgan slightly inclined his head. 'He will not tell anything, if thatis what you are afraid of, Colonel Creighton.'

  He crossed his hands on his lap and smiled, as a man whohas won Salvation for himself and his beloved.]

  'It's only a boy, after all.'

  'Ye-es; but first, he has nothing to tell; and secondly, he knows whatwould happen. Also, he is very fond of Mahbub, and of me a little.'

  'Will he draw pay?' demanded the practical horse-dealer.

  'Food and water allowance only. Twenty rupees a month.'

  One advantage of the Secret Service is that it has no worrying audit.The service is ludicrously starved, of course, but the funds areadministered by a few men who do not call for vouchers or presentitemised accounts. Mahbub's eyes lighted with almost a Sikh's love ofmoney. Even Lurgan's impassive face changed. He considered the years tocome when Kim would have been entered and made to the Great Game thatnever ceases day and night, throughout India. He foresaw honour andcredit in the mouths of a chosen few, coming to him from his pupil.Lurgan Sahib had made E.23 what E.23 was, out of a bewildered,impertinent, lying, little North-West Province man.

  But the joy of these masters was pale and smoky beside the joy of Kimwhen St. Xavier's Head called him aside, with word that ColonelCreighton had sent for him.

  'I understand, O'Hara, that he has found you a place as an assistantchain-man in the Canal Department: th
at comes of taking up mathematics.It is great luck for you, for you are only seventeen; but of course youunderstand that you do not become pukka (permanent) till you have passedthe autumn examination. So you must not think you are going out into theworld to enjoy yourself, or that your fortune is made. There is a greatdeal of hard work before you. Only, if you succeed in becoming pukka,you can rise, you know, to four hundred and fifty a month.' Whereat thePrincipal gave him much good advice as to his conduct, and his manners,and his morals; and others, his elders, who had not been wafted intobillets, talked, as only Anglo-Indian lads can, of favouritism andcorruption. Indeed, young Cazalet, whose father was a pensioner atChunar, hinted very broadly that Colonel Creighton's interest in Kim wasdirectly paternal; and Kim, instead of retaliating, did not even uselanguage. He was thinking of the immense fun to come, of Mahbub's letterof the day before, all neatly written in English, making appointment forthat afternoon in a house the very name of which would have crisped thePrincipal's hair with horror. . . .

  Said Kim to Mahbub in Lucknow railway station that evening, above theluggage-scales--'I feared lest, at the last, the roof would fall upon meand cheat me. Is it indeed all finished, O my father?'

  Mahbub snapped his fingers to show the utterness of that end, and hiseyes blazed like red coals.

  'Then where is the pistol that I may wear it?'

  'Softly! A half-year, to run without heel-ropes. I begged that much fromColonel Creighton Sahib. At twenty rupees a month. Old Red Hat knowsthat thou art coming.'

  'I will pay thee dustoorie (commission) on my pay for three months,'said Kim gravely. 'Yea, two rupees a month. But first we must get rid ofthese.' He plucked his thin linen trousers and dragged at his collar. 'Ihave brought with me all that I need on the Road. My trunk has gone upto Lurgan Sahib's.'

  'Who sends his salaams to thee--Sahib.'

  'Lurgan Sahib is a very clever man. But what dost thou do?'

  'I go North again, upon the Great Game. What else? Is thy mind still seton following old Red Hat?'

  'Do not forget he made me that I am--though he did not know it. Year byyear, he sent the money that taught me.'

  'I would have done as much--had it struck my thick head,' Mahbubgrowled. 'Come away. The lamps are lit now, and none will mark thee inthe bazar. We go to Huneefa's house.'

  On the way thither, Mahbub gave him much the same sort of advice as hismother gave to Lemuel, and curiously enough, Mahbub was exact to pointout how Huneefa and her likes destroyed kings.

  'And I remember,' he quoted maliciously, 'one who said, "Trust a snakebefore a harlot and a harlot before a Pathan, Mahbub Ali." Now,excepting as to Pathans, of whom I am one, all that is true. Most trueis it in the Great Game, for it is by means of woman that all plans cometo ruin and we lie out in dawning with our throats cut. So it happenedto such a one,'--he gave the reddest particulars.

  'Then why--?' Kim paused before a filthy staircase that climbed to thewarm darkness of an upper chamber in the ward that is behind AzimUllah's tobacco-shop. Those who know it call it The Bird-cage--it is sofull of whisperings and whistlings and chirrupings.

  The room, with its dirty cushions and half-smoked hookahs, smeltabominably of stale tobacco. In one corner lay a huge and shapelesswoman clad in greenish gauzes, and decked, brow, nose, ear, neck, wrist,arm, waist, and ankle, with heavy native jewellery. When she turned itwas like the clashing of copper pots. A lean cat in the balcony outsidethe window mewed hungrily. Kim checked, bewildered, at the door-curtain.

  'Is that the new stuff, Mahbub?' said Huneefa lazily, scarce troublingto remove the mouthpiece from her lips. 'O Buktanoos!'--like most of herkind, she swore by the Djinns--'O Buktanoos! He is very good to lookupon.'

  'That is part of the selling of the horse,' Mahbub explained to Kim, wholaughed.

  'I have heard that talk since my Sixth Day,' he replied, squatting bythe light. 'Whither does it lead?'

  'To protection. To-night we change thy colour. This sleeping under roofshas blanched thee like an almond. But Huneefa has the secret of a colourthat catches. No painting of a day or two. Also, we fortify thee againstthe chances of the Road. That is my gift to thee, my son. Take out allmetals on thee and lay them here. Make ready, Huneefa.'

  Kim dragged forth his compass, Survey paint-box, and the new-filledmedicine-box. They had all accompanied his travels, and boy-like hevalued them immensely.

  The woman rose slowly and moved with her hands a little spread beforeher. Then Kim saw that she was blind. 'No, no,' she muttered, 'thePathan speaks truth--my colour does not go in a week or a month, andthose whom I protect are under strong guard.'

  'When one is far off and alone, it would not be well to grow blotchedand leprous of a sudden,' said Mahbub. 'When thou wast with me I couldoversee the matter. Besides, a Pathan is a fair-skin. Strip to the waistnow and look how thou art whitened.' Huneefa felt her way back from aninner room. 'It is no matter, she cannot see.' He took a pewter bowlfrom her ringed hand.

  The dye-stuff showed blue and gummy. Kim experimented on the back of hiswrist, with a dab of cotton wool; but Huneefa heard him.

  'No, no,' she cried, 'the thing is not done thus, but with the properceremonies. The colouring is the least part. I give thee the fullprotection of the Road.'

  'Jadoo?' (magic), said Kim, with a half start. He did not like thewhite, sightless eyes. Mahbub's hand on his neck bowed him to the floor,nose within an inch of the boards.

  'Be still. No harm comes to thee, my son. I am thy sacrifice!'

  He could not see what the woman was about, but heard the clish-clash ofher jewellery for many minutes. A match lit up the darkness; he caughtthe well-known purr and fizzle of grains of incense. Then the roomfilled with smoke--heavy, aromatic, and stupefying. Through growingdrowse he heard the names of devils--of Zulbazan, Son of Eblis, wholives in bazars and paraos, making all the sudden lewd wickedness ofwayside halts; of Dulhan, invisible about mosques, the dweller among theslippers of the Faithful, who hinders folk from their prayers; andMusboot, Lord of lies and panic. Huneefa, now whispering in his ear, nowtalking as from an immense distance, touched him with horrible softfingers, but Mahbub's grip never shifted from his neck till, relaxingwith a sigh, the boy lost his senses.

  'Allah! How he fought! We should never have done it but for the drugs.That was his White blood, I take it,' said Mahbub testily. 'Go on withthe dawut (invocation). Give him full Protection.'

  'O Hearer! Thou that hearest with ears, be present. Listen, O Hearer!'Huneefa moaned, her dead eyes turned to the west. The dark room filledwith moanings and snortings.

  From the outer balcony, a ponderous figure raised a round bullet headand coughed nervously.

  'Do not interrupt this ventriloquial necromanciss, my friend,' it saidin English. 'I opine that it is very disturbing to you, but noenlightened observer is jolly well upset.'

  '. . . I will lay a plot for their ruin! O Prophet, bear with theunbelievers. Let them alone awhile!' Huneefa's face, turned to thenorthward, worked horribly, and it was as though voices from the ceilinganswered her.

  Hurree Babu returned to his note-book, balanced on the window-sill, buthis hand shook. Huneefa, in some sort of drugged ecstasy, wrenchedherself to and fro as she sat cross-legged by Kim's still head, andcalled upon devil after devil, in the ancient order of the ritual,binding them to avoid the boy's every action.

  'With Him are the keys of the Secret Things! None knoweth them besideHimself. He knoweth that which is in the dry land and in the sea!' Againbroke out the unearthly whistling responses.

  'I--I apprehend it is not at all malignant in its operation?' said theBabu, watching the throat-muscles quiver and jerk as Huneefa spoke withtongues. 'It--it is not likely that she has killed the boy? If so, Idecline to be witness at the trial. . . . What was the last hypotheticaldevil mentioned?'

  'Babuji,' said Mahbub in the vernacular. 'I have no regard for thedevils of Hind, but the Sons of Eblis are far otherwise, and whetherthey be jumalee (well-affected) or jullalee (terri
ble) they love notKafirs.'

  'Then you think I had better go?' said Hurree Babu, half rising. 'Theyare, of course, dematerialised phenomena. Spencer says--'

  Huneefa's crisis passed, as these things must, in a paroxysm of howling,with a touch of froth at the lips. She lay spent and motionless besideKim, and the crazy voices ceased.

  'Wah! That work is done. May the boy be better for it; and Huneefa issurely a mistress of dawut. Help haul her aside, Babu. Do not beafraid.'

  'How am I to fear the absolutely non-existent?' said Hurree Babu,talking English to reassure himself. It is an awful thing still to dreadthe magic that you contemptuously investigate--to collect folk-lore forthe Royal Society with a lively belief in all Powers of Darkness.

  Mahbub chuckled. He had been out with Hurree on the Road ere now. 'Letus finish the colouring,' said he. 'The boy is well protected if--if theLords of the Air have ears to hear. I am a sufi (free-thinker), but whenone can get blind-sides of a woman, a stallion, or a devil, why go roundto invite a kick? Set him upon the way, Babu, and see that old Red Hatdoes not lead him beyond our reach. I must get back to my horses.'

  'All raight,' said Hurree Babu. 'He is at present a curious spectacle.'

  * * * * *

  About third cock-crow, Kim woke after a sleep of thousands of years.Huneefa, in her corner, snored heavily, but Mahbub was gone.

  'I hope you were not frightened,' said an oily voice at his elbow. 'Isuperintended entire operation, which was most interesting fromethnological point of view. It was high-class dawut.'

  'Huh!' said Kim, recognising Hurree Babu, who smiled ingratiatingly.

  'And also I had honour to bring down from Lurgan your present costume. Iam not in the habit offeecially of carrying such gauds to subordinates,but'--he giggled--'your case is noted as exceptional on the books. Ihope Mr. Lurgan will note my action.'

  Kim yawned and stretched himself. It was good to turn and twist withinloose clothes once again.

  'What is this?' He looked curiously at the heavy duffle-stuff loadedwith the scents of the far North.

  'Oho! That is inconspicuous dress of chela attached to service oflamaistic lama. Com-plete in every particular,' said Hurree Babu,rolling into the balcony to clean his teeth at a goglet. 'I am ofopeenion it is not your old gentleman's precise religion, but rathersub-variant of same. I have contributed rejected notes to "AsiaticQuarterly Review" on these subjects. Now it is curious that the oldgentleman himself is totally devoid of religiosity. He is not a damparticular.'

  'Do you know him?'

  Hurree Babu held up his hand to show he was engaged in the prescribedrites that accompany tooth-cleaning and such things among decently bredBengalis. Then he recited in English an Arya-Somaj prayer of atheistical nature, and stuffed his mouth with pan and betel.

  'Oah yes. I have met him several times at Benares, and also at BuddhGaya, to interrogate him on religious points and devil-worship. He ispure agnostic--same as me.'

  Huneefa stirred in her sleep, and Hurree Babu jumped nervously to thecopper incense-burner, all black and discoloured in morning-light,rubbed a finger in the accumulated lampblack, and drew it diagonallyacross his face.

  'Who has died in thy house?' asked Kim in the vernacular.

  'None. But she may have the Evil Eye--that sorceress,' the Babu replied.

  'What dost thou do now, then?'

  'I will set thee on thy way to Benares, if thou goest thither, and tellthee what must be known by Us.'

  'I go. At what hour runs the te-rain?' He rose to his feet, looked roundthe desolate chamber and at the yellow-wax face of Huneefa as the lowsun stole across the floor. 'Is there money to be paid that witch?'

  'No. She has charmed thee against all devils and all dangers--in thename of her devils. It was Mahbub's desire.' In English: 'He is highlyobsolete, I think, to indulge in such supersteetion. Why, it is allventrilo-quy. Belly-speak--eh?'

  Kim snapped his fingers mechanically to avert whatever evil--Mahbub, heknew, meditated none--might have crept in through Huneefa'sministrations; and Hurree giggled once more. But as he crossed the roomhe was careful not to step in Huneefa's blotched, squat shadow on theboards. Witches--when their time is on them--can lay hold of the heelsof a man's soul if he does that.

  'Now you must well listen,' said the Babu when they were in the freshair. 'Part of these ceremonies which we witnessed they include supplyof effeecient amulet to those of our Department. If you feel in yourneck you will find one small silver amulet, verree cheap. That is ours.Do you understand?'

  'Oah yes, hawa-dilli' (a heart-lifter), said Kim, feeling at his neck.

  'Huneefa she makes them for two rupees twelve annas with--oh, all sortsof exorcisms. They are quite common, except they are partially blackenamel, and there is a paper inside each one full of names of localsaints and such things. Thatt is Huneefa's look-out, you see? Huneefamakes them onlee for us, but in case she does not, when we get them weput in, before issue, one small piece of turquoise. Mr. Lurgan, hegives, them. There is no other source of supply; but it was me inventedall this. It is strictly unoffeecial of course, but convenient forsubordinates. Colonel Creighton he does not know. He is European. Theturquoise is wrapped in the paper. . . . Yes, that is road to railwaystation. . . . Now suppose you go with the lama, or with me, I hope,some day, or with Mahbub. Suppose we get into a dam-tight place. I am afearful man--most fearful--but I tell you I have been in dam-tightplaces more than hairs on my head. You say: "I am Son of the Charm."Verree good.'

  'I do not understand quite. We must not be heard talking English here.'

  'That is all raight. I am only Babu showing off my English to you. Allwe Babus talk English to show off,' said Hurree, flinging hisshoulder-cloth jauntily. 'As I was about to say, "Son of the Charm"means that you may be member of the Sat Bhai--the Seven Brothers, whichis Hindi and Tantric. It is popularly supposed to be extinct society,but I have written notes to show it is still extant. You see it is allmy invention. Verree good. Sat Bhai has many members, and perhaps beforethey jolly-well-cut-your-throat they may give you just a chance forlife. That is useful, anyhow. And, moreover, these foolish natives--ifthey are not too excited--they always stop to think before they kill aman who says he belongs to any specific organisation. You see? You saythen when you are in tight place, "I am Son of the Charm," and youget--perhaps--ah--your second wind. That is only in extreme instances,or to open negotiations with a stranger. Can you quite see? Verree good.But suppose now, I, or any one of the Department, come to you dressedquite different. You would not know me at all unless I choose, I betyou. Some day I will prove it. I come as Ladakhi trader--ohanything--and I say to you: "You want to buy precious stones?" You say:"Do I look like a man who buys precious stones?" Then I say: "Evenverree poor man can buy a turquoise or tarkeean."'

  'That is kichree--vegetable curry,' said Kim.

  'Of course it is. You say: "Let me see the tarkeean." Then I say: "Itwas cooked by a woman, and perhaps it is bad for your caste." Then yousay: "There is no caste when men go to--look for tarkeean." You stop alittle between those words, "to--look." That is thee whole secret. Thelittle stop before the words.'

  Kim repeated the test-sentence.

  'That is all right. Then I will show you my turquoise if there is time,and then you know who I am, and then we exchange views and documents andthose-all things. And so it is with any other man of us. We talksometimes about turquoises and sometimes about tarkeean, but alwayswith that little stop in the words. It is verree easy. First, "Son ofthe Charm," if you are in a tight place. Perhaps that may helpyou--perhaps not. Then what I have told you about the tarkeean, if youwant to transact offeecial business with a strange man. Of course, atpresent, you have no offeecial business. You are--ah ha!--supernumeraryon probation. Quite unique specimen. If you were Asiatic of birth youmight be employed right off; but this half-year of leave is to make youde-Englishised, you see? The lama, he expects you, because I havedemi-offeecially informed him you have pass
ed all your examinations, andwill soon obtain Government appointment. Oh ho! You are onacting-allowance you see: so if you are called upon to help Sons of theCharm mind you jolly well try. Now I shall say good-bye, my dear fellow,and I hope you--ah--will come out top-side all raight.'

  Hurree Babu stepped back a pace or two into the crowd at the entrance ofLucknow station and--was gone. Kim drew a deep breath and hugged himselfall over. The nickel-plated revolver he could feel in the bosom of hissad-coloured robe, the amulet was on his neck; begging-gourd, rosary,and ghost-dagger (Mr. Lurgan had forgotten nothing) were all to hand,with medicine, paint-box, and compass, and in a worn old purse-beltembroidered with porcupine quill-patterns lay a month's pay. Kings couldbe no richer. He bought sweetmeats in a leaf-cup from a Hindu trader,and ate them with glad rapture till a policeman ordered him off thesteps.