Kim

'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, 'that

depends. The Regiment would pay for you all the time you are at the

Military Orphanage; or you might go on the Punjab Masonic Orphanage's

list (not that he or you 'ud understand what that means); but the best

schooling a boy can get in India is, of course, at St Xavier's in

Partibus at Lucknow.' This took some time to interpret, for Bennett

wished 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 any

sense 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 write a letter in some days to you. He says you are a good man. He

says the other 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 as

the lama stalked out; 'but I can't leave the boy.' Kim made swift

motion to 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

lama had promised that he would stay with the Raiput woman from Kulu,

and the rest was of the smallest importance. It pleased him that the

two padres were so evidently excited. They talked long in undertones,

Father Victor urging some scheme on Mr Bennett, who seemed incredulous.

All this was very new and fascinating, but Kim felt sleepy. They

called men into the tent--one of them certainly was the Colonel, as his

father had prophesied--and they asked him an infinity of questions,

chiefly about the 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, if

he chose, he could escape into great, grey, formless India, beyond

tents and 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 a

sergeant, who had strict instructions not to let him escape. The

Regiment would go on to Umballa, and Kim would be sent up, partly at

the expense of the Lodge and in part by subscription, to a place called

Sanawar.

'It's miraculous past all whooping, Colonel,' said Father Victor, when

he had talked without a break for ten minutes. 'His Buddhist friend

has levanted after taking my name and address. I can't quite make out

whether he'll pay for the boy's education or whether he is preparing

some sort of witchcraft on his own account.' Then to Kim: 'You'll live

to be grateful to your friend the Red Bull yet. We'll make a man of

you at 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 the

Commander-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 the

line 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 they

were not going to the war, at least they did not know what he knew of

the talk in the veranda at Umballa.

'I know you are not at thee war now; but I tell you that as soon as you

get to Umballa you will be sent to the war--the new war. It is a war

of eight thousand men, besides the guns.'

'That's explicit. D'you add prophecy to your other gifts? Take him

along, sergeant. Take up a suit for him from the Drums, an' take care

he doesn't slip through your fingers. Who says the age of miracles is

gone by? 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 sat

Kim, newly washed all over, in a horrible stiff suit that rasped his

arms and legs.

'A most amazin' young bird,' said the sergeant. 'He turns up in charge

of a yellow-headed buck-Brahmin priest, with his father's Lodge

certificates round his neck, talkin' God knows what all of a red bull.

The buck-Brahmin evaporates without explanations, an' the bhoy sets

cross-legged on the Chaplain's bed prophesyin' bloody war to the men at

large. Injia's a wild land for a God-fearin' man. I'll just tie his

leg to the tent-pole in case he'll go through the roof. What did ye

say about 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 to

bye-bye. Those two boys will watch your slumbers.'

Chapter 6

Now I remember comrades--

Old playmates on new seas--

Whenas we traded orpiment

Among the savages.

Ten thousand leagues to southward,

And thirty years removed--

They knew not noble Valdez,

But me they knew and loved.

Song of Diego Valdez.

Very early in the morning the white tents came down and disappeared as

the Mavericks took a side-road to Umballa. It did not skirt the

resting-place, and Kim, trudging beside a baggage-cart under fire of

comments from soldiers' wives, was not so confident as overnight. He

discovered that he was closely watched--Father Victor on the one side,

and Mr Bennett on the other.

In the forenoon the column checked. A camel-orderly handed the Colonel

a letter. He read it, and spoke to a Major. Half a mile in the rear,

Kim heard a hoarse and joyful clamour rolling down on him through the

thick dust. Then someone beat him on the back, crying: 'Tell us how ye

knew, ye little limb of Satan? Father dear, see if ye can make him

tell.'

A pony ranged alongside, and he was hauled on to the priest's saddlebow.

'Now, my son, your prophecy of last night has come true. Our orders

are to entrain at Umballa for the Front tomorrow.'

'What is thatt?' said Kim, for 'front' and 'entrain' were newish words

to him.

'We are going to "thee War," as you called it.'

'Of course you are going to thee War. I said last night.'

'Ye did; but, Powers o' Darkness, how did ye know?'

Kim's eyes sparkled. He shut his lips, nodded his head, and looked

unspeakable things. The Chaplain moved on through the dust, and

privates, sergeants, and subalterns called one another's attention to

the boy. The Colonel, at the head of the column, stared at him

curiously. 'It was probably some bazar rumour.' he said; 'but even

then--' He referred to the paper in his hand. 'Hang it all, the thing

was only decided within the last forty-eight hours.'

'Are there many more like you in India?' said Father Victor, 'or are

you by way o' being a lusus naturae?'

'Now I have told you,' said the boy, 'will you let me go back to my old

man? If he has not stayed with that woman from Kulu, I am afraid he

will die.'

'By what I saw of him he's as well able to take care of himself as you.

No. Ye've brought us luck, an' we're goin' to make a man of you. I'll

take ye back to your baggage-cart and ye'll come to me this evening.'