Kim

with all the shoots of a budding fancy, the more rampant for being held

off native speech so long. In all India that night was no human being

so joyful as Kim. At Umballa he got out and headed eastward, plashing

over the sodden fields to the village where the old soldier lived.

About this time Colonel Creighton at Simla was advised from Lucknow by

wire that young O'Hara had disappeared. Mahbub Ali was in town selling

horses, and to him the Colonel confided the affair one morning

cantering round Annandale racecourse.

'Oh, that is nothing,' said the horse-dealer. 'Men are like horses. At

certain times they need salt, and if that salt is not in the mangers

they will lick it up from the earth. He has gone back to the Road

again for a while. The madrissak wearied him. I knew it would.

Another time, I will take him upon the Road myself. Do not be

troubled, Creighton Sahib. It is as though a polo-pony, breaking

loose, ran out to learn the game alone.'

'Then he is not dead, think you?'

'Fever might kill him. I do not fear for the boy otherwise. A monkey

does not fall among trees.'

Next morning, on the same course, Mahbub's stallion ranged alongside

the Colonel.

'It is as I had thought,' said the horse-dealer. 'He has come through

Umballa at least, and there he has written a letter to me, having

learned in the bazar that I was here.'

'Read,' said the Colonel, with a sigh of relief. It was absurd that a

man of his position should take an interest in a little country-bred

vagabond; but the Colonel remembered the conversation in the train, and

often in the past few months had caught himself thinking of the queer,

silent, self-possessed boy. His evasion, of course, was the height of

insolence, but it argued some resource and nerve.

Mahbub's eyes twinkled as he reined out into the centre of the cramped

little plain, where none could come near unseen.

'"The Friend of the Stars, who is the Friend of all the World--"'

'What is this?'

'A name we give him in Lahore city. "The Friend of all the World takes

leave to go to his own places. He will come back upon the appointed

day. Let the box and the bedding-roll be sent for; and if there has

been a fault, let the Hand of Friendship turn aside the Whip of

Calamity." There is yet a little more, but--'

'No matter, read.'

'"Certain things are not known to those who eat with forks. It is

better to eat with both hands for a while. Speak soft words to those

who do not understand this that the return may be propitious." Now the

manner in which that was cast is, of course, the work of the

letter-writer, but see how wisely the boy has devised the matter of it

so that no hint is given except to those who know!'

'Is this the Hand of Friendship to avert the Whip of Calamity?' laughed

the Colonel.

'See how wise is the boy. He would go back to the Road again, as I

said. Not knowing yet thy trade--'

'I am not at all sure of that,' the Colonel muttered.

'He turns to me to make a peace between you. Is he not wise? He says

he will return. He is but perfecting his knowledge. Think, Sahib! He

has been three months at the school. And he is not mouthed to that

bit. For my part, I rejoice. The pony learns the game.'

'Ay, but another time he must not go alone.'

'Why? He went alone before he came under the Colonel Sahib's

protection. When he comes to the Great Game he must go alone--alone,

and at peril of his head. Then, if he spits, or sneezes, or sits down

other than as the people do whom he watches, he may be slain. Why

hinder him now? Remember how the Persians say: The jackal that lives

in the wilds of Mazanderan can only be caught by the hounds of

Mazanderan.'

'True. It is true, Mahbub Ali. And if he comes to no harm, I do not

desire anything better. But it is great insolence on his part.'

'He does not tell me, even, whither he goes,' said Mahbub. 'He is no

fool. When his time is accomplished he will come to me. It is time

the healer of pearls took him in hand. He ripens too quickly--as

Sahibs reckon.'

This prophecy was fulfilled to the letter a month later. Mahbub had

gone down to Umballa to bring up a fresh consignment of horses, and Kim

met him on the Kalka road at dusk riding alone, begged an alms of him,

was sworn at, and replied in English. There was nobody within earshot

to hear Mahbub's gasp of amazement.

'Oho! And where hast thou been?'

'Up and down--down and up.'

'Come under a tree, out of the wet, and tell.'

'I stayed for a while with an old man near Umballa; anon with a

household of my acquaintance in Umballa. With one of these I went as

far as Delhi to the southward. That is a wondrous city. Then I drove

a bullock for a teli [an oilman] coming north; but I heard of a great

feast forward in Patiala, and thither went I in the company of a

firework-maker. It was a great feast' (Kim rubbed his stomach). 'I

saw Rajahs, and elephants with gold and silver trappings; and they lit

all the fireworks at once, whereby eleven men were killed, my

fire-work-maker among them, and I was blown across a tent but took no

harm. Then I came back to the rel with a Sikh horseman, to whom I was

groom for my bread; and so here.'

'Shabash!' said Mahbub Ali.

'But what does the Colonel Sahib say? I do not wish to be beaten.'

'The Hand of Friendship has averted the Whip of Calamity; but another

time, when thou takest the Road it will be with me. This is too early.'

'Late enough for me. I have learned to read and to write English a

little at the madrissah. I shall soon be altogether a Sahib.'

'Hear him!' laughed Mahbub, looking at the little drenched figure

dancing in the wet. 'Salaam--Sahib,' and he saluted ironically.

'Well, art tired of the Road, or wilt thou come on to Umballa with me

and work back with the horses?'

'I come with thee, Mahbub Ali.'

Chapter 8

Something I owe to the soil that grew--

More to the life that fed--

But most to Allah Who gave me two

Separate sides to my head.

I would go without shirts or shoes,

Friends, tobacco or bread

Sooner than for an instant lose

Either side of my head.'

The Two-Sided Man.

'Then in God's name take blue for red,' said Mahbub, alluding to the

Hindu colour of Kim's disreputable turban.

Kim countered with the old proverb, 'I will change my faith and my

bedding, but thou must pay for it.'

The dealer laughed till he nearly fell from his horse. At a shop on

the outskirts of the city the change was made, and Kim stood up,

externally at least, a Mohammedan.

Mahbub hired a room over against the railway station, sent for a cooked

meal of the finest with the almond-curd sweet-meats [balushai we call

it] and fine-chopped Lucknow tobacco.

'This is better than some other meat that I ate with the Sikh,' said

Kim, grinning as he squatted, 'and assuredly they give no such victuals

at my madrissah.'

'I have a desire to hear of that same madrissah.' Mahbub stuffed

himself with great boluses of spiced mutton fried in fat with cabbage

and golden-brown onions. 'But tell me first, altogether and

truthfully, the manner of thy escape. For, O Friend of all the

World,'--he loosed his cracking belt--'I do not think it is often that

a Sahib and the son of a Sahib runs away from there.'

'How should they? They do not know the land. It was nothing,' said

Kim, and began his tale. When he came to the disguisement and the