Kim

horse, and, though he be over head in debt to the money-lender, must

make as if to buy. That was the reason that Sahib after Sahib, rolling

along in a stage-carriage, would stop and open talk. Some would even

descend from their vehicles and feel the horses' legs; asking inane

questions, or, through sheer ignorance of the vernacular, grossly

insulting the imperturbable trader.

'When first I dealt with Sahibs, and that was when Colonel Soady Sahib

was Governor of Fort Abazai and flooded the Commissioner's

camping-ground for spite,' Mahbub confided to Kim as the boy filled his

pipe under a tree, 'I did not know how greatly they were fools, and

this made me wroth. As thus--,' and he told Kim a tale of an

expression, misused in all innocence, that doubled Kim up with mirth.

'Now I see, however,'--he exhaled smoke slowly--'that it is with them

as with all men--in certain matters they are wise, and in others most

foolish. Very foolish it is to use the wrong word to a stranger; for

though the heart may be clean of offence, how is the stranger to know

that? He is more like to search truth with a dagger.'

'True. True talk,' said Kim solemnly. 'Fools speak of a cat when a

woman is brought to bed, for instance. I have heard them.'

'Therefore, in one situate as thou art, it particularly behoves thee to

remember this with both kinds of faces. Among Sahibs, never forgetting

thou art a Sahib; among the folk of Hind, always remembering thou

art--' He paused, with a puzzled smile.

'What am I? Mussalman, Hindu, Jain, or Buddhist? That is a hard knot.'

'Thou art beyond question an unbeliever, and therefore thou wilt be

damned. So says my Law--or I think it does. But thou art also my

Little Friend of all the World, and I love thee. So says my heart.

This matter of creeds is like horseflesh. The wise man knows horses

are good--that there is a profit to be made from all; and for

myself--but that I am a good Sunni and hate the men of Tirah--I could

believe the same of all the Faiths. Now manifestly a Kathiawar mare

taken from the sands of her birthplace and removed to the west of

Bengal founders--nor is even a Balkh stallion (and there are no better

horses than those of Balkh, were they not so heavy in the shoulder) of

any account in the great Northern deserts beside the snow-camels I have

seen. Therefore I say in my heart the Faiths are like the horses.

Each has merit in its own country.'

'But my lama said altogether a different thing.'

'Oh, he is an old dreamer of dreams from Bhotiyal. My heart is a

little angry, Friend of all the World, that thou shouldst see such

worth in a man so little known.'

'It is true, Hajji; but that worth do I see, and to him my heart is

drawn.'

'And his to thine, I hear. Hearts are like horses. They come and they

go against bit or spur. Shout Gul Sher Khan yonder to drive in that

bay stallion's pickets more firmly. We do not want a horse-fight at

every resting-stage, and the dun and the black will be locked in a

little ... Now hear me. Is it necessary to the comfort of thy heart

to see that lama?'

'It is one part of my bond,' said Kim. 'If I do not see him, and if he

is taken from me, I will go out of that madrissah in Nucklao and,

and--once gone, who is to find me again?'

'It is true. Never was colt held on a lighter heel-rope than thou.'

Mahbub nodded his head.

'Do not be afraid.' Kim spoke as though he could have vanished on the

moment. 'My lama has said that he will come to see me at the

madrissah--'

'A beggar and his bowl in the presence of those young Sa--'

'Not all!' Kim cut in with a snort. 'Their eyes are blued and their

nails are blackened with low-caste blood, many of them. Sons of

mehteranees--brothers-in-law to the bhungi [sweeper].'

We need not follow the rest of the pedigree; but Kim made his little

point clearly and without heat, chewing a piece of sugar-cane the while.

'Friend of all the World,' said Mahbub, pushing over the pipe for the

boy to clean, 'I have met many men, women, and boys, and not a few

Sahibs. I have never in all my days met such an imp as thou art.'

'And why? When I always tell thee the truth.'

'Perhaps the very reason, for this is a world of danger to honest men.'

Mahbub Ali hauled himself off the ground, girt in his belt, and went

over to the horses.

'Or sell it?'

There was that in the tone that made Mahbub halt and turn. 'What new

devilry?'

'Eight annas, and I will tell,' said Kim, grinning. 'It touches thy

peace.'

'O Shaitan!' Mahbub gave the money.

'Rememberest thou the little business of the thieves in the dark, down

yonder at Umballa?'

'Seeing they sought my life, I have not altogether forgotten. Why?'

'Rememberest thou the Kashmir Serai?'

'I will twist thy ears in a moment--Sahib.'

'No need--Pathan. Only, the second fakir, whom the Sahibs beat

senseless, was the man who came to search thy bulkhead at Lahore. I

saw his face as they helped him on the engine. The very same man.'

'Why didst thou not tell before?'

'Oh, he will go to jail, and be safe for some years. There is no need

to tell more than is necessary at any one time. Besides, I did not

then need money for sweetmeats.'

'Allah kerim!' said Mahbub Ah. 'Wilt thou some day sell my head for a

few sweetmeats if the fit takes thee?'

Kim will remember till he dies that long, lazy journey from Umballa,

through Kalka and the Pinjore Gardens near by, up to Simla. A sudden

spate in the Gugger River swept down one horse (the most valuable, be

sure), and nearly drowned Kim among the dancing boulders. Farther up

the road the horses were stampeded by a Government elephant, and being

in high condition of grass food, it cost a day and a half to get them

together again. Then they met Sikandar Khan coming down with a few

unsaleable screws--remnants of his string--and Mahbub, who has more of

horse-coping in his little fingernail than Sikandar Khan in all his

tents, must needs buy two of the worst, and that meant eight hours'

laborious diplomacy and untold tobacco. But it was all pure

delight--the wandering road, climbing, dipping, and sweeping about the

growing spurs; the flush of the morning laid along the distant snows;

the branched cacti, tier upon tier on the stony hillsides; the voices

of a thousand water-channels; the chatter of the monkeys; the solemn

deodars, climbing one after another with down-drooped branches; the

vista of the Plains rolled out far beneath them; the incessant twanging

of the tonga-horns and the wild rush of the led horses when a tonga

swung round a curve; the halts for prayers (Mahbub was very religious

in dry-washings and bellowings when time did not press); the evening

conferences by the halting-places, when camels and bullocks chewed

solemnly together and the stolid drivers told the news of the Road--all

these things lifted Kim's heart to song within him.

'But, when the singing and dancing is done,' said Mahbub Ali, 'comes

the Colonel Sahib's, and that is not so sweet.'

'A fair land--a most beautiful land is this of Hind--and the land of

the Five Rivers is fairer than all,' Kim half chanted. 'Into it I will

go again if Mahbub Ali or the Colonel lift hand or foot against me.

Once gone, who shall find me? Look, Hajji, is yonder the city of

Simla? Allah, what a city!'

'My father's brother, and he was an old man when Mackerson Sahib's well

was new at Peshawur, could recall when there were but two houses in it.'